


But it is. (Legolas Greenleaf x Male OC)

by A55a55in



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Between The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, During The Hobbit, During The Lord of the Rings, Gay, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I tried to make it make as much sense as possible, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Original Plot, Post-Lord of the Rings, Pre-The Hobbit, Tragic backstory coming up, What Have I Done, yes Tieflings exist in Middle Earth don't believe me? Look it up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:15:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 27,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24995248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A55a55in/pseuds/A55a55in
Summary: Vaeril Dagnir is a special kid. Hasty but determined like a Man, hopping from task to task, despite his endless Elven life. He is stubborn as a dwarf, despite his very open mind. He doesn't believe in any rules or restrictions, but his own.This kid is Legolas Greenleaf's best buddy and has stayed with him through their entire life, from their shared birthday to the present. This is the story of the first time Vaeril fell in love, and despite the disapproval of many other creatures, stayed in love.
Relationships: Legolas Greenleaf/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 4





	1. Vaeril

**Author's Note:**

> Hahaaha kill me~

Vaeril Dagnir.

This kid, though hundreds of years old, never seemed to grasp the Elven maturity, calmness, patience, everything the Elves were known for. He was born in the same year and on the same day as the Elven prince, his best friend Legolas Greenleaf, but didn't quite act his age.

He was one of the fastest Elves in the woodlands, and people said he was the fastest Elf to have ever lived. Unfortunately he was also the fastest to get bored. Always he was looking for something new, dragging his best and only friend with him, like a curious Man. He shared many traits with those of Mankind, temperamental and hasty and simply in love with growing a beard, saddened by the fact he couldn't. 

Hopping from stone to stone, climbing from tree to tree, shooting arrow after arrow, this kid was always busy. He never had the best grades in school, though incredibly smart, because he didn't have the patience to sit through the tests. He was always determined to finish his task, and to hop onto the next, not caring if the task was clumsily done or not.

And to top it all off, he was as stubborn as your average dwarf. No one could convince him to something against his beliefs, whether it was about whether the weather was beautiful or if the existence of other realms that had devices running on some form of tiny lightning. Though, because of his gullible and open mind it was not hard to convince him of something he did not know anything about, whether it was within the confines of common sense or not.

He wanted to join the army, fighting to defend his kin. But they wouldn't let him, afraid his lack of order would disturb the other elves. And since his parents, who were unknown, were unable to sign a form for him, he wouldn't be allowed to anyways. He tried to, once again, rope Legolas into it, having his father, the king, sign his papers so he could join, under the excuse that the order of the army would bring some structure to his own behavior. 

It didn't work, and yet it worked in his advantage. The Elven king, after having heard of his son's peculiar friend, decided to give him private lessons. As honored as Vaeril was, he still wasn't quite able to keep his calm around him. He ticked off the king various times, and even nearly faced banishment once (or twice), but he got the necessary training to become the king's personal mercenary. He was sent off on missions, which he enjoyed doing, such as assassinating, spying and all dark stuff.

Yes, this kid was not your average Elf. He was much more than all that. That much could be identified by a first glance at him, as his clothes were mostly leather and dark, ragged capes and reeked of blood, while his entire body was scarred, and his messy hair was cut off long ago, leaving him with the short hair not many Elves had.

His piercing green eyes bore through everything, and intimidated many who faced him, but yet to the ones close to him they radiated a warm love, and were very captivating for anyone who stared too long at them.

Vaeril Dagnir was one crazy kid, but one to remember to watch out for.


	2. And he did it again...

"Pen-channas (idiot)!"

Legolas ducked and fired off an arrow between the eyes of an angered Orc, who fell down and never moved again. 

Vaeril had the great idea to go explore an Orc village. It seemed that they weren't as peaceful as he originally thought.

"In my defense, Mélian said they were peace-loving Orcs."

He was leisurely dodging the sharp blades as if they were nothing but feather filled pillows, whereas his best friend was working hard to avoid getting his head cut off.

"There is no such thing as peace-loving Orcs, penig channas (are you stupid)!? Now we are slaughtering an Orc village!"

"Well your father was talking about getting rid of them anyways, as I see it we are doing him a favor!"

Vaeril casually kicked some Orcs in the crotch, hands still in his pockets.

"Can you at least focus more on killing them?"

"Le vaethor vaen e-beng (You are a skilled bowman). Handle them yourself. I'm busy pick-pocketing this handsome fellow over here."

Legolas looked over at his friend, who was flipping through a poorly stitched together wallet, and they both made a face of disgust when a few large flies flew out of it, Vaeril's face quickly switching to amusement.

"This should be a returning joke in cartoons."

"Focus on fighting! And what are cartoons!?"

"Cartoons are a lot of drawings moving after each other, so that it seems like the screen is moving!"

"What are you talking about? What is a screen?"

Vaeril coughed into his elbow and pulled his sword out, slashing though a few Orcs.

"Focus on killing, Legolas!"

The dark haired Elf finally decided to get his head into the game, and started actively slaying the enemies they were facing. 

A total of five seconds later, two young Elves were the only breathing creatures left in the small village, and Vaeril sat on top of a barrel filled with what they assumed to be poorly brewed ale, cleaning his sword.

It was one peculiar sword, by the way. It was crafted by him himself, as he didn't like the Elven swords, or any other sword for that matter. This was the result of something he had actually put some effort in, a beautifully crafted tungsten blade, with funny little patterns carved in them and filled up with another type of lighter colored metal.

"Mommy? Nalkramal ayh lat (Where are you)?"

The males looked over and saw an Orcish child, not much older than 8 according to the eyes of the elves, but Orcs had different lifespans so they weren't sure.

The child saw the two elves and held out a dagger at them. A growl was heard from the child's throat, much to deep for the young age it appeared to be.

"Who are you?"

The elves reacted to the dagger immediately, both aiming an arrow between its eyes. It whimpered in fear.

"Vaeril, lower you bow. It's just a child."

Legolas put his bow away and slowly stalked over to the kid. Vaeril, still suspicious, lowered his bow but kept it at hand. He coughed into his elbow again.

"What is your name, child?"

The kid glanced at him and was about to raise the dagger again when he got closer. The Elven boys only now noticed that it had a large gash on the side of its face and was missing one tusk.

"I'm Marok. And now you!"

"My name is Legolas, and that is my friend Vaeril. Come here, you need medical attention."

At this point, Vaeril had put his bow on his back and his sword in the sheath. He casually walked over to the two, hopping over two or three corpses, and picked up Marok.

"Let me down, filthy Elf!"

The kid struggled, but Vaeril had him (they assumed it was a him, judging by the masculine name) flung over his shoulder like a helpless sack of potatoes, while walking to the exit of the village, whistling a tune neither of the others recognized and dancing to it, smoothly hopping over corpses and wiggling his free arm around in his dance.

Legolas stared at this weird exchange in amusement. Once again, his friend didn't fail to amuse him. He hurried over to the other two.

"How are we gonna smuggle an Orc child into Mirkwood?"

"We'll just be walking in, my friend, casually strutting inside. If you smuggle it will always go wrong."

"Vaeril, that only works with anything that is not a living, breathing and not to mention struggling and shouting Orc child!"

He didn't seem to have thought about that, as he stopped in his tracks and put his free left hand on his chin.

"Well with a bit of powder on his face we migh--"

"I'm a girl!"

Vaeril stopped in amusement. He held out the Orc girl in front of him, with both arms. It was hard to tell what gender she was, since Orc children all look alike. But now with this new revelation made, he could see some difference. Even as a young child, she had a slightly different build and a face shape not quite fitting of her name.

The Mirkwood Prince was once again amused by the simple actions of the Elf, and the even more struggling child in his arms. He noted the strong muscles holding up the girl as if it was nothing, ones that not many Elves had in that size, making his frame more broad than the slender Elves.

He wondered when his friend had become so lean, as he hung out with him every day. Had he really not noticed this change? Vaeril always was the skinny one between them. Perhaps he'd bulked up during his training? He should ask him later.

"And put me down! I can walk!"

"Ben iest gîn (As you wish)."

Suddenly, the muscled arms pulled back, causing the child to fall down on the floor. She let out a small yelp of shock, but quickly stood up, and kicked him in the shins. Or at least, tried to, as he was far too quick for her to actually hit him. 

"You long-eared scum! No wonder mommy always says to loathe your kind!"

"Yeah, and I always say to not take insults from creatures as short as Dwarves!"

"Vaeril, you don't take insults from anyone. Let's go, we need to get your wound treated."

Legolas had walked up to them and had put a hand on Vaeril's shoulder. Then, he walked to Marok and offered his hand to her, which she hesitantly took. She then turned around and blew a raspberry at Vaeril, who blew one back. Then he rushed over to Legolas' other side and grabbed his free hand.

"I want one too!"

Legolas sighed and opened his hand, and Vaeril put his hand in Legolas'.


	3. How could this ever be a good idea?

"I honestly do think she's a Half-Orc, not a full blooded one. Her face is by far not deformed enough to belong to an Orc!"

"Vaeril, that's mean."

"No you're mean, sending us off into that Orc village!"

"I never sent you anywhere. I tipped you off."

"Falsely. It was fake."

"I could not have known that."

"We're not even friends, why are you even her-"

"That's enough!"

Legolas stood up, shutting up both the bickering Elves, and continued his task of patching up the small girl in some room in the Mirkwood Palace. The other blond Elf, Legolas' cousin, had tagged along when he saw Vaeril dragging a moving bag with him, and was now sitting in the room with Vaeril and Legolas, the former of which was highly annoyed by his presence.

"I was just asking why he's here, after fu--"

"No cussing, we have a kid with us!"

Mélian found Vaeril, his number one competitor for many things, getting scolded by Legolas rather funny, not even bothering to conceal his laughter. Vaeril, the more short-tempered of the three, wasn't taking it well. To avoid further disaster, Mélian replied:

"I was simply wondering where two young handsome Elves were going with a noise making bag?"

"We're elves, Li-li, everyone is young and handsome."

The tallest Elf scoffed. He didn't like the nickname. Legolas grinned at that, momentarily forgetting his own nickname Leggy. Once again, he noticed Vaeril coughing into his elbow.

"Anyways, I think she's a Half-Orc. She has some physical features of a Man, not quite like any Orc."

"Tell me, Marok, what did your parents look like?"

The girl gave the prince a glance and then pulled a face as if she was thinking.

"My mommy has green skin, like me, but is very big and has a round face. I don't know my daddy, but mommy says he looks like me but with skin like a peach, and that he is big like mommy!"

The two best friends exchanged glances and understood she was probably talking about a Man. Just then, Legolas finished cleaning the girl's wound and had bandaged that part of her face.

"If you take care of it well, it won't leave a scar."

"Or you don't take care of it well and it will leave one kick-ass scar! I'm still trying to get one of my own on my face.."

Legolas stood up and whacked him on the head. Mélian grinned at this, very much amused by the two friends, causing Marok also to grin.

"They're funny, aren't they?"

"They are. Can I go back to my mommy now?"

The Elves shared a few glances.

"Your mommy... I..."

Vaeril walked over to the kid, lifted her up (against her will, of course) and placed her on his back.

"Let's go look for her mother, Leggy! She might not be dead!"

"Marok, where was your mommy when the shouting began?"

"She was with a few others, hunting on a few Wargs. Mommy can do that because she's big and strong, like boy-Orcs!"

"Quick, let's go before she retur-"

Vaeril was cut off by another few coughs, causing Marok to nearly fall off his back.

"Are you alright, Vaeril? You have been coughing since this morning."

"Mmfine."

He let out another small cough, and then plastered a wide smile on his face. 

"Let's go!"

Vaeril hopped out of the room, waiting for the other two to follow. They didn't.

"What are we waiting for?"

"We have archery training right now."

"But if we don't go now, her mother might already be back!"

Vaeril was a bit saddened at Legolas' eventual decision to stay.

"Then I'm skipping class, tell coach I'm on a mission your dad gave me or something."

Before any of the other two could approve or disapprove of his decision, he was already off to who knows where.

"I don't see how you put up with him. He's a brat!"

"Me neither, but he's a special kid, that's for sure."

\-------------

"Now let's see.. What direction was the village again?"

"We walked in the direction the sun was going for a few hours."

"Got it.. So if I run, I could make it in an hour."

"No one can run that fast for an hour, not even mommy!"

"Menib hí (let's go now)!"

"Dukhal (bastard)."

Vaeril coughed again.

"I don't know what that was but it sounded like an insult."

"It was."

He pinched the little Half-Orc in her arm, and she slapped him. Then he started to run off to the West. He skipped over large rocks, jumped over small streams and ran through the open fields they had passed through earlier. He recognized the area from when he went there this morning with his buddy.

He didn't slow down, not even to tie the laces of his boots. Not much more than an hour of running, with a slight delay of tripping over the loose laces, he reached the entrance of the village. There were now two Orcs guarding it, and they raised their spears at the two. Inside there were a few Orcs looking around the bodies, collecting the treasures their dead tribe mates carried on their bodies.

Vaeril was disgusted by this, even by his standards this was a new level of unholy. You do not steal from dead bodies, unless you get a good pay from it.

Marok found what she was looking for, and yelled at the only living Orcish female in the village. 

"Mommy!"

Vaeril let the girl off her back, who raced over to her mom, through the guards.

"What are you doing here, Man?"

"..I'm an Elf..."

"You don't smell like one. You smell like one of Mankind."

"Anygays, moving on, I got the kid back!"

"Why does she reek of Elf? Where did you take her to?"

"Me and my companion took her to Mirkwood, to treat the wound on her face. Can't let it get infected, naturally."

He once again coughed into his elbow, and this time wiped a trail of blood from his face. The Orc guards raised their eyebrows but didn't think much of it.

"And where did you get her from?"

Vaeril wiped some sweat off his forehead and let out a sigh.

"Damn I didn't expect them fuckin' Orcs to be asking me hard question. K me and my buddy might have killed off your entire village, sorry not sorry..."

The Orcs growled and charged at him. He swiftly dodged their fist strikes with their spears, and slipped behind them.

"Bye Marok!"

He waved and made a run for it. He kept running back to the East, but unfortunately not even he could sprint for longer than an hour. When he was about half way, in a small, lighter forest and the Orcs way behind him, he stumbled over his own tired feet.

He crashed near a small stream, on the rock he was about to use as a stepping stone to jump over the stream, to a similar rock facing the other way on the other side of the stream. He let out a few heavy pants, and rolled over to his back, forgetting he was still on the rock until he fell down next to it on the right side, scratching his own right side open on a sharp rock next to the one he was just on a moment ago.

Vaeril Dagnir let out a short yelp of pain, and continued heavily panting. At least the Orcs weren't following anymore, or so he hoped. It had been half an hour since he'd last seen them, he presumed. He felt with his hand. It hurt.

"Ae! Naeg! (Basically stuff you say when ouch)"

He pulled his hand back and looked at it. He was losing blood fast. He had to get back. Vaeril stood up, his left hand going back to his injured side and his right hand grabbing the rock to lift himself up. He looked at the stream, which was wider than he originally thought.

'Seems that it's less far when I run and jump...'

"Alright then! Fast streaming, clear water..."

He checked for animal tracks.

"A deer.. two deers and five rabbits have drunk from this water today.. No wait that's the same one I think, it misses a toe and a half.. I think it would be clean enough to pass through with this wound... But then the animals will be drinking my blood..."

Vaeril kept mumbling to himself about the safety of the water, not knowing of the attention he was bringing to himself. Three pairs of eyes looked at him, from a bush. Suddenly, one of them tripped and stumbled forwards. Vaeril turned sideways, standing behind the rock, facing the three Dwarfs.

"Who are you!?"


	4. Snuggles the immortal duck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> murder meeee

"Who are you?"

The three Dwarfs looked at Vaeril, who had switched to clutching his side with his right hand so that he could grab his sword with his dominant hand.

"Are you alright, lad? You seem pretty hurt-"

The Dwarf on the right took a step forward, but stopped when the beautiful sword nearly cut off his beard.

"Don't come closer! Who are you!"

"I'm Thovir, lad, from the iron hills. Who are you?"

Vaeril coughed up some blood, and shifted his right hand to cover up more of the wound. He was ashamed that, as the best Elven warrior, he was dying because of a scratch.

"My name's Vaeril, from Mirkwood. What's your business with me?"

One of the other two Dwarfs spoke up.

"I'm Laswynn and this here is Damín, we got something that'll get you back on your feet in a jiffy!"

Vaeril wasn't one that was slow to trust, but this did seem a bit suspicious to him. He kept standing behind the rock, left arm stretched out over it and sword pointing at Thovir.

"Lad, if we wanted to harm you we would've done so already! You have already raced past our camping site three times already!"

He saw a point in that. Still, he was wounded and very, very tired, and thus did not want to risk danger like he usually did.

"Drop all of your weapons, then I will trust you."

Damín, the Dwarf on the left, set his axe on the ground. Vaeril only now noticed that the other two weren't carrying any weapons. They seemed friendly. He put his sword back into its sheath, and clutched his side again with his left hand.

Laswynn hurried back through the bushes, and now Vaeril saw two tents and a campfire, hidden well by the leaves and twigs the Dwarfs must have thrown on as camouflage. He made his way around the rock, and Thovir and Damin guided him to sit against the lower part of the slope. Laswynn came back with a small brown bottle, some bandages, some tools, and... a duck.

The brown bearded Dwarf was followed by a mother duck and her babies, which was very amusing to the young elf.

"Oh, it seems she has brought Ana with her!"

Ana, the mother duck, let out a quack.

"Take off your shirt, dear."

Vaeril took off his cape, shoulder pads, chest plate, and opened the top part of his tunic while moving as little as possible, not to disturb his wound. Damin had taken the small cup Laswynn brought with her, and filled it with water from the stream. Laswynn took it over from him, and slowly poured a bit on the large gash. Vaeril winced, but sat through it, clenching his teeth.

One of the ducklings jumped onto his lap and nestled itself against him. Vaeril, momentarily forgetting the pain, didn't even notice the Dwarf mentioning how deep the wound was as he stared at it, and slowly began to pet it with his bloody hand. Then, the pain worsened.

"Ae! What!?"

The Dwarf woman pulled a face, not in the mood to explain the situation again, so Thovir did in her stead.

"She said the wound is deeper than she thought. She's gonna have to stitch it up!"

Vaeril looked at her hands, which had already pulled a needle through part of his skin. It was weird to watch a thread sticking through his skin.

"I suggest you cuddle that duckling very tightly, this is gonna hurt!"

Vaeril, accustomed to extreme pains, found that it didn't bother him all that much, save for the first time when he was caught by surprise. The small duckling was very cheerful, it hopped around and wanted to be petted.

"He seems to like you. Do you want to keep him?"

Vaeril looked up at Thovir, who made a gesture at the duck.

"Oh but he's part of his family! I couldn't do that!"

"They're ageless ducks, we sell these. Ana is not their mom, just a courtesy caretaker. They're old enough to be parted from their siblings, though. You'll get him for free, since we scared you."

"You're already tending to my wound, I couldn't ask you to-"

"We insist, laddie. You can have him for free. Now raise your hands, dear."

Vaeril did as she told him, and she wrapped a bandage around his wound. Then she told him to lower his arms and she wrapped some of the bandage around his shoulder to secure it.

"Now, don't move too much or the wound will re-open."

"Thank you, masters and mistress Dwarf. I would bow would if it would not pull these stitches."

The Dwarfs and the Elf laughed. Vaeril coughed up some blood again, causing some blood to seep through the bandages. The Dwarfs looked at it, worried, and Laswynn was about to re-open the bandages.

"Oh, it will be fine, Mirkwood is less than two hours walking from here. I'll have someone see to it there, you have done so much already."

"Alright but take the duck. And write us some time, he knows how to find us!"

Vaeril smiled and got up. He didn't want to risk pulling anything open with his stitches, so he wrapped the sleeves of his tunic around his waist, put on his shoulder pads and cape but held the leather chest protection in his hands.

"I forgot to ask, what is his name?"

"He doesn't have one, lad. That one is up to you!"

Vaeril decided on the name of Snuggles, as it loved to snuggle up to his bare chest, as uncharacteristic as it was for an Elf to name a duck like that. 

He was still a bit out of breath, depleted of energy and just got stitches, but he figured a small jog would get him home without too much effort. He bid his goodbye to the Dwarfs, promising to write them when he got home and had washed the blood off off Snuggles, and ran up the slope, jumping over the stream like he planned to.

He jogged through the light forest, and got back to the open field after a few minutes. He stayed at the edge of the forest though, since he didn't want to risk drawing too much attention from whoever might have been near him.

Right then, he heard the howl of a Warg. Realizing he wouldn't be able to outrun them, he hid behind the first rock he saw. He glanced over it, and caught the gaze of Marok. She was sitting on the big Warg in front of the female whom he assumed to be her mother, who directed the Warg towards him.

"Get up, Elf."

"Come on, Vaeril, quick!"

He stood up in confusion, and clutched his armour to his chest, pressing the duck against him.

"I thank you Elf, for your good deed of taking care of my child and also.. slaughtering the village. I have been meaning to get away from them a while now."

"Whadda ya say, there are good Orcs after all!"

The Orc woman smiled, which he found weird to see, and beckoned him to get on the Warg.

"We will take you back to Mirkwood, Marok figured you'd be too tired."

"Vaeril, why are you wrapped in bandages?"

"Long story."

The woman helped him on the Warg and they rode off to the edge of the forest of Mirkwood. During the ride, Vaeril introduced Snuggles to Marok as he told her the story with the Dwarfs.

When they arrived, Vaeril carefully dismounted the Warg.

"Do you have anywhere to stay?"

"We will find something."

"I could help, we have some vacant homes at the edge!"

The woman, whose name Vaeril had understood to be Azilkh, smiled.

"I do not believe we would be welcomed there, but thank you for the offer."

"Then ride West, passing the forest past the Southern side, and you should come across a village that is very accepting to any race. I heard there are even two Tiefling siblings residing there."

"We shall go there and see, thank you."

"I'll come visit!"

The two rode off, and Vaeril entered the forest.

\-------

The sun had already set when Vaeril reached the city, and stumbled over to his house. It was a long end up, and he had to pass past the palace. A certain Elven prince was looking out of his window, over the city, and recognized his friend. He ran out of his room, to the nearest exit, and caught up to him.

"Vaeril! Where were you?"

Vaeril heard Legolas' voice and suddenly realized that he was covered in bandages.

"Uhh, I was... I brought Marok home."

He didn't dare tell anyone that the gash was because he fell.

Legolas raised an eyebrow, and noticed Vaeril subconsciously moving his arm to the center of the bandages he was covered in. Just then, he noticed that his best friend was not only covered in bandages, but also half naked. He once again noticed the strong muscles, which were now much more visible without his loose tunic covering them.

"-olas? Leggy my man? My bro? You listening?"

Legolas snapped out of his daze, and fought to keep down a blush. By the lopsided smirk on Vaeril's lips he realized that it did not go as well as he had hoped.

"Like what you see?"

"In your dreams. And you need medical attention."

Legolas moved over to grab the leather protection from Vaeril, when..

"Quack!"

"..."

"..meet Snuggles..."

"....you're a weird kid......"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it this far means you liked it. Go on, I believe in you!


	5. I... am in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So am I, kid. So am I.

The prince assisted his friend to the doctor.

"Aegnor! We need your help!"

A girl about their age opened.

"Caun nín (my prince)!"

"Aerin! Where is your father? We need his help now!"

The girl glanced at Vaeril, who was (against his will) draped over Legolas' shoulders, and glared at him. She didn't like him in any way. Still, since Legolas requested her father's help she couldn't deny it.

"Come inside. Ada! Royal guests!"

A very sleep deprived Elf came down the narrow wooden stairs, into the circular wooden living room.

"Legolas, and oh it's you, kiddo. What did you do this time?"

Aegnor was a friend of his parents, long before their sudden disappearance. He had provided Vaeril with necessities, and they of course knew each other from the young Elf's frequent visits.

"A fight... I met some Dwarves who patched me up after, but I want to check with Elven medicine."

He didn't lie, since he technically did get into a fight, early in the morning. Then, he began coughing again. Snuggles jumped into his bloody hand, trying to calm him. He coughed for a good minute, Legolas having moved even closer to his friend with a worried look in his eyes.

"Aerin, bring his majesty outside. I want to have a chat with Vaeril."

\-------------

Aegnor removed the Dwarven stitches and put in his own, much neater, and after properly cleaning it. Vaeril had coughed up blood multiple times during the process. Snuggles had stayed with him, though Aegnor had put the young Elf in a short artificial sleep.

When he woke up, Aegnor sat across from him. He held out a cup of tea. Vaeril sat up, and patted down the hair which usually went in all directions when he slept. His hair never did calm down, but at least he tried.

"I didn't realize the prince cared so much about you?"

"Aegnor, we have been friends since our birth!"

"Your mother was the former general, after all."

Vaeril was shocked. Aegnor didn't bring up his parents that much, since it saddened him.

"Your health is decreasing, Vaeril. If you don't do anything about it, you may not have that long left. For how long have you been coughing?"

"It started this morning... I swear it did! I didn't feel worse than normal yesterday, other than the usual pains, but this morning all hell broke loose!"

"Vaeril... Listen kiddo, this illness you possess... it's not very common. I've never seen it before. I do not know how to help you."

Vaeril looked down.

"Does the prince know about your condition?"

He shook his head. He never told Legolas, since he'd always have a more pressing matter at the moments he tried.

"Kid... I cannot help you beyond here. You might find medicine in Imladris, but I cannot guarantee you will. But the journey there is two and a half weeks on a horse, maybe two on the best we have. If your health keeps declining like this, you will not make it."

\-----------

"I do not see how you keep up with him. From his-- his disrespectful way of speaking to his horrid way of dressing, his-"

"Aerin, he's my friend. Please don't speak about him like that."

"I'm just asking how, caun nín! He's--"

"He's wounded."

"I'm sorry, caun nín.."

"Please, do call me Legolas."

It was common knowledge that everyone in Mirkwood hated Vaeril Dagnir with a passion. Though, Legolas was more bothered by this than the boy himself, as carefree as he was. It was already so far, that Elven children were raised with the idea that he was one to never be associated with.

It saddened Legolas. He knew that, despite his best friend's efforts to be friendly to the people, he would never be fully accepted anymore. In the hundreds of years they had lived, Vaeril had done many, many things to secure a future of loneliness. He himself would be married off to someone, perhaps to create a bond with another kingdom, or would be too busy ruling Mirkwood after his father would hand the throne over to him.

He couldn't take care of him forever. He realized that, and also realized that Vaeril would have to know that too.

Vaeril...

At the mention of his name, Legolas thought back to the events earlier that day. The village, the Half-Orc girl, spending the afternoon training worried about him, and the-- he hated to admit it, but he did like the muscled look on his friend. He shook it off with a blush.

"Are you alright, Legolas? Your face seems to be reddened."

His blush intensified. Aerin glanced over her shoulder, through the window to the living room in which her father and Vaeril. She blushed herself.

"The worst part is, I can't even deny he's good looking. Even for Elven standards."

'No, he's mine!'

Legolas was shocked. Why did he think that? He shook his head softly and jerked his head for his eyes to meet hers. She was blushing very intensely. He smirked at her.

"Is he, now?"

"S-stop it!"

He let out a small laugh.

"It matters not, I was only joking."

After that, the conversation seemed to be going lighter, and they found that they got along very well. The conversation had long ago drifted away from the dark haired Elf, so they were quite shocked when he suddenly slammed open the door, having put his tunic and the chest plate back on, just like his hood, and the duckling on his shoulder.

Legolas jumped up and immediately chased after the running Elf, followed by Aerin. In his drowsy state, from the artificial sleep, the former quickly caught up to him.

"Vaeril!"

He hid his face beneath the hood of his cloak, and didn't stop. He kept running, up the wooden stairs, until he reached his house. It was a small, but nice house. He sprinted ahead of Legolas, using the last bit of his energy, and shut the door. Once inside, he got a backpack and started filling it up with all kinds of stuff.

His last bit of rations, another set of clothes, bandages, his usual medicine, and other stuff. He heard Legolas knocking on his door, yelling at him to open up. He wiped some tears off his face. He might never see his friend again. Taking this into mind, he grabbed a picture of them and stuffed it in his back.

Just then, his door started creaking. Legolas was about to come through. Vaeril grabbed a rope, attached a heavy hook to it and swung it in the general direction of a large, sturdy branch. Just as the rope was secured to the branch, Legolas broke through his door, only to see a glance of Vaeril's tear stained face. He turned his eyes away, as he knew that he hated to be seen crying.

Vaeril jumped. He grabbed the rope tightly, and it landed him on another branch. He hopped over a few branches, careful not to tear the stitches, and got to the stables. He pulled some coins from his pocket and pressed them into the hand of the keeper of the horses, and proceeded to head to the fastest horse he saw.

"Hey kid! What are you doing?"

He ignored the man, and got the horse named Alharabi out. He mounted her, and raced away.

"Vaeril!"

Legolas and Aerin finally reached where Vaeril was going, and had left in the middle of the night. In the distance, he was still visible, as a small dot on the horizon.

Legolas turned to the horse keeper.

"Elephon, what is your fastest horse?"

Elephon beckoned to follow him. Hidden, but in a special stable, was Aigon, the best horse available. A dark brown Thoroughbred horse.

The two mounted the horse, and rode off, after Vaeril. They had no idea where he was going, but he was still slightly visible in the distance.

After a while, they got to the town of Aramore. They found Vaeril's horse in a stable. Then, Legolas heard a familiar voice.

"Lego! Legolas! Come help us!"

Marok's voice came from the inn. 

"Marok? What are you doing here?"

"It's Vaeril, he's really sick!"


	6. ..not the moment, kid.

Marok led the two Elves into the inn, where she and her mother were staying. She led them upstairs, to the third floor, and into the third room on the left. Inside was Vaeril, on the bed. His face was all scrunched up in pain, and it looked like blood had been messily wiped off his face, with a new trail coming from the hook of his mouth.

"Vaeril!"

He quickly sat up, but was pushed down by an Orc woman, dressed in a tunic. Legolas put his hand on Aerin's hand, which was hovering above her sheathed dagger. Vaeril turned around, and tried to hide his face.

"..go away..."

It was a mere whisper, but all could hear the pain in his voice.

Marok came from the bathroom with two wet towels. The woman put one on his head and wiped his face clean with the other.

"You gotta help him, Legolas!"

Legolas rushed over to his friend's side. Aerin stayed in the door opening.

"What happened, child?"

"I was looking out of the window and saw him dismounting his horse. I yelled at him, and he immediately ran over here. He all started coughing all of a sudden, I didn't know what to do!"

Marok had started to tear up at this point. Her voice was shaking. Aerin crouched down due to her nature to comfort the crying child, momentarily forgetting she was still part Orc.

Legolas brushed some hair out of the blood, sweat and tear-stained face of his friend. Vaeril, realizing he wasn't left with much options here, muttered a few words.

"Have... to.. Rivendell... Warg..."

"What? You're not making any sense.."

Vaeril tried to smile through his pained expression.

"When... I... ever..."

"Vaeril, what do you mean! Tell me! How do we help!"

"Rivendell... Warg..."

Vaeril pointed at Azilkh. Legolas looked at her.

"What is he talking about?"

"He came bursting in, said something about borrowing my Warg because it's faster... and then he became like this."

Legolas and Aerin looked at each other. It seemed Vaeril had to-- he was asleep. Vaeril was asleep. His eyes were relaxed, but the rest of his face still wore a pained expression. It pained Legolas deep inside to see his handsome face not able to get some rest. Wait, handsome?

'I did not just think that.'

He shook his head and blushed.

"You're really pretty."

Aerin and Marok had striked up a conversation with each other.

"Thanks, Marok. You don't look too bad yourself!"

"Legolas and Vaeril look pretty too! You all look pretty!"

He walked over to the two.

"I'm prettier, aren't I?"

"Yes Legolas! You're the prettiest!"

They knew that Vaeril couldn't be helped right now, and that a good night's rest was probably the best for now.

A landscape.

'How original.'

Green hills, soft grass, pink skies. In the distance, it seemed like there was a beach. Behind him, a forest. But this was more of a giant open field, that just smelled nice. Like flowers on young grass, with a slight touch of something he couldn't place. Or could. As it got stronger, the metallic smell became more obvious.

It was blood. Everything smelled like blood. The sky got a darker red, and the soft grass was spotted with a dark substance.

He was scared. He didn't know what to do. Something hurt, but it was not his side. No, this was deeper within, like the chronic disease that had been haunting him for over a thousand and a half years. But worse, so much worse.

"Who is he?"

"Is he new?"

"Poor guy..."

All kinds of voices were speaking.

"WHO ARE YOU!? SHOW YOURSELF!"

Various shadows formed together to one humanoid shape.

"Get up, kid."

Only now, Vaeril realized that he had fallen down to his knees. He got up, left hand immediately moving to his side, and realizing the sword wasn't there. He reached over his shoulder to find his bow missing from his back, together with the arrows. In fact, all his stuff was missing except for his tunic. He wasn't even wearing boots..

"W-who are you? And where am I? It's a dream isn't it, I can fly now!"

He jumped up, only to fall down again. He quickly got up again and wiped the blood from the grass off his face.

"Whose blood is this?"

"It's your own. Kid, what we're going to tell you now is important."

Vaeril sat up. He looked around him. The room was dark, with the only light coming from the window, from the moon. Still, that was enough for the assassin Elf.

Azilkh and Marok were sleeping on the other bed in the room. 

'I should go, I've caused them enough trouble for today...'

He turned around, to come face to face with a sleeping blonde Elf.

'Legolas? What's he doing here?'

His best friend was sleeping in the chair next to the bed. Across from the foot end of the bed, against the wall, was another chair in which Aerin was sleeping.

'And what in whatever's name is she doing here!?'

Vaeril got up. Ah, someone must have taken him out of his armour. That might have been why it wasn't present in the dream, just like his weapons. He jumped up, landing stealthily on his feet. Soundlessly walking, or rather sneaking, as it had become his default over the course of the last twelve hundred years, he searched through the room for his weapons.

"Where are you going, you idiot."

Aerin had stood up.

"We were worried sick about you. Suddenly rushing off and fainting, and then exclaiming something about Rivendell?"

"We?"

She blushed.

"That's all you focused on? What about the fainting part!?"

Vaeril looked down and smiled. He had found his armour by now, with the help of a small (now clean) duckling showing him it's location. As he put on his boots, he tried to slowly stalk closer to the window.

"Legolas hasn't been sleeping because of you. You were out for two days!"

"T-two days!?"

"Shhh! Quiet, they're sleeping. Yes, two days. Two days you have been tossing and turning and sweating in that very bed, sometimes even yelling. You wouldn't wake up no matter what we did."

He sighed. He closed the straps on his chest plate, now fully geared up and opening the window.

"Don't you dare leave. Legolas needs his sleep and you now he won't sleep until he finds you again."

"I'll stay until dawn. Then, I'll head off to the Blue mountains."

"What about Imladris?"

"That's what I thought up until now. I now know better what to do. Go sleep on the bed, I'll take the chair."

Aerin headed over to the bed. She sat on top of it, already knowing his stubbornness wouldn't let her do otherwise.

"If you're gone before Legolas wakes up, I'll track you down and end you."

"Ha! As if you could."

She shook her head and smiled. Then her expression faltered.

"He really cares about you, you know."

Vaeril smiled back, and laid down on the chair.

"Yeah, I know. I raised him like that."

They both let out a laugh. Then they froze. Since when did she laugh when he was near? She loathed him with a passion, like all other Elves did. Vaeril was an outcast, a loser. There was no way of associating with him, and he knew that too.

"Good night, then.."

"Yeah, you too..."

They headed off to their respective sleeping spots. They shared one last glance before Aerin dozed off. Vaeril sighed. He really didn't want to sleep right now. But she was right, he did owe Legolas an explanation, after acting so weird for years.

It had started off small, as a cough every now and then. Maybe once every few days. It was weird for an Elf, as they never got sick. They weren't supposed to get sick. But yet he was. Gradually, his condition got worse. It was easily suppressed, or brushed off, or hidden from the common view. He rarely slipped up.

There was no issue with his health except for the dull pain. But it had gotten worse. The morning of two days ago, when they went to the Orcish village, he felt horrible. Still, he had plans he was sure he could attend. The coughing was horrible, and for the first time accompanied by blood.

Now, he felt better again. The mysterious shadow had only increased the pain to get a chance to talk to him, and had now dulled it down. But he had a deal to completed.

Now was no time to do so, so he dozed off in the chair.


	7. Just vibin'

"Wake up!"

Aerin was shaken awake by a very worried Legolas. She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Where is he?"

She sat up and frantically looked around her. Vaeril Dagnir was gone. Normally she'd be ecstatic to hear that, but knowing he was sick and causing others to be worried sick, she was angry. He had promised to stay, after all!

"He promised! He promised to stay!"

"He what? You talked to him?"

Aerin got up and put on her boots.

"He awoke in the night, while you were asleep. I didn't want to wake you, but by now he might already have left for the Blue mountains!"

"The Blue mountains? Why have you not woken me up!?"

"Who's talking Blue mountains?"

The door was slammed open by Vaeril and Marok, each holding a sack smelling like freshly baked bread. It was only now that they noticed that Marok wasn't sleeping besides Azilkh, who was still vast asleep.

"I'm leaving for those tod-"

"Vaeril!"

Legolas was at the door in the blink of an eye, embracing his friend in a hug. Vaeril nearly dropped the sack, but caught it again with his quick reflexes. He handed it over to Marok, and hugged his friend back. They stood there for a while, perhaps a bit longer than necessary, until Legolas backed up, blushing.

His eyes, that were already puffy, were now once again filled with tears. It broke Vaeril's heart to see him like this. Then his gaze turned hard and he whacked his friend over the head.

"You were out for two days! What were you thinking, making us worried like that!"

Vaeril grinned.

"Missed you too, buddy. In my defense, most of it was dreamless so I didn't know."

Legolas wiped away his tears with his fancy sleeve. He smiled at his friend, as if everything was back to normal. As if they didn't slaughter an entire Orc village, and as if Vaeril hadn't kept tossing and turning on the mattress for two whole days. 

"Quack!"

"Snuggles! Oh my god I haven't sent a message to the Dwarfs yet!"

"What?"

Vaeril hugged his newly adopted friend, and got a piece of paper from his backpack, a pen and a bottle of ink. He started scribbling on the paper.

Dear Dwarven friends,

Do not worry, for I have made it back too the forest of Mirkwood. However, after seeing a doctor, I already rushed off. I passed out due to a disease I have (it is nothing to worry about, though), and did not wake up for two days. I hope you guys are doing alright! I'm heading West, to the Blue mountains. If Snuggles is not able to find me, send him off to there past Rivendell, and following the road to Bree. I do not believe I will travel fast enough for him to be unable to catch up to me, so that would be enough. Please do write back!

Vaeril

He rolled up the letter, and wound a string around it. He handed it over to Snuggles, who took it into his beak and jumped out of the window.

"SNUGGLES!?"

The Elf flung himself against the windowsill. The duckling was floating on a small cloud, like a bath toy in a hot tub. He cracked up at his small companion. After the duck had floated away, he turned around.

"What did you mean by that? Where are you travelling?"

"I'm off to the Blue mountains, to find a cure."

"We're coming with you."

It was surprising, coming from Aerin. After all, one can never stress enough how much she hated him. Or was that only in the years before their journey? For over two thousand years she had known him, and now all of a sudden she was being nice.

Or maybe that's what he thought.

Now that he thought about it, maybe she had moved closer to him during classes and practices. Maybe they had talked more often. Maybe she had less frequently glared at him in disgust. 

It was weird, but not important. He was dying, after all.

"I'm going alone."

"At least take me. Aerin, you can go back to your father."

"Fine. But only you!"

\------------

Azilkh had agreed to letting Vaeril borrow Rogue, the Warg. After all, she did not need him now that she was busy buying a house in Aramore. The air was clean, the people were friendly and it wasn't too overcrowded.

Aerin had taken Alharabi back to Mirkwood. The journey wasn't safe for her, as they would be travelling in dangerous territory, which she had not been properly trained for. 

"Vaeril, these two are quite... irritating."

"Whadda ya mean? They're cool!"

The small team was travelling to Rivendell. With team was also meant, Trouble and their twin sister Chaos, the two Tieflings. As their names, handpicked by themselves as they entered maturity, described, they were quite the duo and Legolas was not tolerating them.

As they were leaving the village, Chaos had rushed over to them to pet Rogue, not having seen one in a long time. Her sibling had followed the sound of her footsteps, as they were blind, but they eventually did smell the Warg too.

Trouble was, as they found after a quick chat, also a bearer of the disease. So they insisted on coming to the Blue Mountains with them, even though Vaeril even offered to bring them the cure. They said that they "needed an adventure anyways".

The twins had brought their own mount with them, a Shire horse. It was big enough to fit both Tieflings on it, despite their sturdy tails.

"So what do we have to do in the Blue mountains?"

"Nothing serious, maybe battle a dragon-- I'm getting clearer instructions later."

The twins took interest to that last comment.

"Instructions? Who you getting those from?"

"My dreams, naturally!"

The three laughed. Legolas didn't get the joke, if there was any in the first place, but he was happy Vaeril was making friends.

Though he would be happier if they were normal friends. He knew there was a lot of discrimination against Tieflings, being descendants from demons and generally perceived as evil and everything, and he tried not to contribute in the harsh racism. However, being raised by his father as he was, it was in his nature to look down upon non-Elves, especially creatures related to demons.

He was in constant conflict with himself: He did know whether to trust his father's word, especially after meeting the kind siblings. It also didn't help that the younger twin, Trouble, was non-binary. He knew it wasn't the second age anymore, and it was okay to not be aligned with your assigned gender, but his childhood believes implanted by his father were not easily shaken off.

Vaeril noticed Legolas' troubles with his friends, and told the company to stop for a rest.

They all got off their mounts, and tied them to some trees. Chaos, quickly reading the situation, offered to take her sibling and go gather some berries and nuts as a snack.

"You do not like them, do you?"

Legolas looked up at his friend, standing slightly bent over his sitting form. Then, he looked away once again.

"Let me guess, your father?"

He nodded.

"I'm just not... used, to all of this. It's new, after nearly three thousands of repetitiveness."

Vaeril nodded, and sat down next to his friend, arms brushing against each other. He smiled at Legolas suddenly tensing up at the contact. 

They sat there, for a while, not saying anything. To any casual, eavesdropping Tiefling girl it would seem like they were talking telepathically, using their minds to speak rather than their words.

In reality, both Elves were thinking about their current situation. Vaeril was trying to reason with Legolas' deeply rooted beliefs, and trying to convince himself that he didn't want to think the way he did. It would only be natural, raised as an Elf prince. Especially under that fabulous arrogant king of them, who happened to have raised them both.

Legolas was also busy with that, thinking of why his father would have those beliefs himself. He made a note to talk about that, to his father. To ask why he despised their kind so much. It was, after all, not their own fault to have been born that way. Speaking of notes, now that the twins weren't near he could ask Vaeril of his suddenly added muscle mass.

'Wait, now is probably not the best moment for that. By Varda, Legolas, keep yourself in the moment!'

He shook his head and stood up, after which he dusted off his tunic. Speaking of which, he did not pack any clothes for the journey. Now his fancy robes would be ruined! And he didn't have any armour with him, either. For Vaeril it was easy, because he rarely took it off, not even in his sleep, but Legolas usually didn't carry any on him.

Vaeril glanced at him and stood up in a swift movement. He gave his friend a quick hug, leading the girl in the bushes to even further believe they were mentally speaking. She turned around to face her sibling, who was smelling some suspicious berries with their stumpy nose. Their eyebrows, barely visible under the blindfold they were wearing, not needing their broken eyes anyways, scrunched up in disgust and threw the berries on the ground.

"There ain't nothing edible around here, sis, let's get back."

"Hold up, Dan, do you know if Elves can talk telepathically?"

"They're magic, they must be able to. Were you eavesdropping on them?"

Her fingers automatically started playing with the tip of one of her horns, a tic she had developed for when she got nervous.

"You're fidgeting, aren't you?"

Chaos' hand immediately dropped.

"Nope. Let's go."


	8. Race ya

After their quick rest, the small company continued on their journey to Rivendell. They were travelling pretty fast-paced and didn't rest much, except to eat or sleep. They were near another small village when they were joined by a large cloud.

"Hey is it just me or has that giant cloud thing been following us for an hour now?"

Vaeril and Legolas looked up at that comment, and despite not being able to see, so did Trouble. Above them was indeed, a giant cloud.

"That would explain the constant sha-"

"SNUGGLES!!"

At that, the cloud lowered. Now, the company could see why it was so large; there were three Dwarfs sitting behind the baby duck.

"Guys! Why are you here!"

"You worried us, lad! We were worried when we didn't hear from you in the few hours after our meeting."

"If it's about the wound, I think it's mostly healed by now."

Thovir shook his head, making his large beard sway around.

"It's about you, lad! We just wanted to see how you were doing."

"We got excited when we heard you were going to the Blue mountains. After selling our ducks we're picking up a new load there, so we had to travel there anyways!"

Vaeril laughed, and so did the twins, not fully understanding the joke. A second later and Legolas was awkwardly grinning with all laughing creatures, really not understanding the humor but happy Vaeril had friends now. So much had changed already in three days time.

"What's with the cloud though?"

"It's a thing the ducks can do. It drains their energy, especially at this scale, so they can only do this a few times a month."

Vaeril noticed that his little friend did indeed look tired, and with a soft "Quack.." the cloud disappeared, causing the Dwarfs to comically fall down and the duckling to flutter down into his palms. Legolas and Vaeril immediately stopped their mounts to help the Dwarfs up, but Trouble, riding the other horse, needed a nudge from their sister to stop their horse Trigger.

"Why you guys putting the blind one in front anyways?"

"Trigger don't trust nobody except them. Those two even trust each other so much that she could be their eyes!"

The Dwarfs got up.

"We didn't expect you to be travelling by horse-- and Warg, so it seems."

"And with Tieflings no less!"

Ah, the endless racism.

"In our defense we didn't know you'd be coming to pay a visit. And I was also under the impression that I would be travelling alone, but it seems I have friends."

"How horrible..."

Thovir patted his back, shaking his head, causing the company to crack up again, this time joined by the chuckles of Legolas.

"Anyways, we should be arriving at Bleakburn soon. We could rent some mounts there?"

"Good thinking, Leggy!"

For the time being, the Dwarfs were divided on the mounts they already had. Damín and Thovir were sitting in front of and behind Vaeril, while Laswynn was mounted upon Aigon, behind the blond Elf. To Chaos, this was nothing short of amusing. Trouble pouted, because they were unable to see the funny situation, but grinned nonetheless when the absurdity of the situations was described to them by their sister.

After a while of riding slowly, Vaeril began to get bored yet again. His face bore a large grin as he slowly turned around, careful not to hit any of the Dwarfs situated in front and behind him, and faced his childhood friend.

"Oh no..."

"What?"

Vaeril turned around and suddenly Rogue started sprinting. Thovir nearly fell off the back, and the top of Damín's helmet must have hit the Elvish assassin in the teeth because they heard a loud tap of something hard colliding with a hard surface before the four raced off.

"Dante! Pursue them!"

Trouble sped up, somehow still neatly following the path, leaving Legolas and Laswynn behind, the former one sighing.

"Come on, pointy-ear!! We can't let them get ahead!"

The competitive Dwarf woman impatiently started shaking his shoulders, and didn't stop until Legolas finally sped up. He was far behind, but luckily his horse was fast. Less than a few seconds later, having the advantage of a faster mount and less carrying weight, the others came into view. 

Laswynn cheered the blonde Elf on, and blew a raspberry at the siblings as Legolas' horse raced past them. Chaos made a rude hand gesture in return.

"Nul'zereb (brainless)!"

"Kakhuf inbarathrag! (Goat shit)"

Neither could understand each other, but continued a while in their colorful vocabulary, as the two riders were racing neck to neck to gain some distance on the other, even if, in Legolas' case, to stop this fight. After a while, though Trigger was unusually fast for a horse of her kind, Aigon won in the long run.

It seemed that they had forgotten that their mutual friend Vaeril was riding a Gundabad Warg, as he had already dismounted Rogue and was tying him up just outside Bleakburn. Even he knew that the people in this village weren't as nice as those of Aramore, so it was best that Rogue would stay outside while they were to rent horses.

Legolas arrived second, to the joy of Laswynn and the anger of the twins, and the siblings arrived last, nearly toppling over the head of their horse as she suddenly stopped (Trouble didn't see the village coming and Chaos was too focused on winning to nudge them).

"Maybe it is better for you two to stay outside. People might not be as.. accepting as they were in the other town."

Whether Legolas was being genuine or just had enough of those two was unclear, as his tone was a bit harsh.

"Then why don't you stay with them, Leggy, and I'll bring these guys to get us some mounts!"

The Tieflings smirked at him (or in Trouble's case, at his general direction), making him feel a bit uncomfortable. Vaeril gave him a quick hug, something he seemed to do more often than before, and followed his short friends into Bleakburn.

They looked around. The village was filled with Men, there was no other humanoid race. It must have been a weird sight, to see an Elf and three Dwarves walking through a village filled with disgusted Men, all trying their best to avoid them. 

Well, of course Vaeril would still pass as a Man to the normal eye. His hair was short, his frame broad and his overall demeanor very Man-like. He even had a favored arm, while Elves were in general ambidextrous. The only tells on his Elven ancestry were his abnormally handsome looks and of course, his extraordinary physique which allowed him the lightfootedness and strength no Man would ever have.

His Elven eyes quickly located where the stables should be. He lead his friends there, and found a man with a rake next to a pile of hay. The man's eyes quickly glanced at the company. Disdain flashed across his face.

Vaeril gave the man a friendly smile. His green eyes pierced those of the man, making it clear he was not to be messed with. The man noted his various weapons.

"We would like three of your fastest ponies, please."

"Three?"

"My mount is waiting outside. Please do hurry, we have a diseased one with us."

The man went into the back, and came back with three ponies. Vaeril whipped out a pouch and threw it to the man. He caught it and checked the insides.

"Oh you don't have to do that, lad. Let us pay you back."

"No need. It's on me."

Vaeril walked over to check the ponies. He took a quick look at them and glared at the man.

"I remember specifically saying three of your fastest ponies, kind sir."

\-----------

"Do you hate us?"

"What?"

"She asked if you hate us. You barely say a word and only stick to Vaeril's side. Or are you just like that?"

Legolas blinked at them.

"No, I do not hate you. But you have been annoying me, if I were to be honest."

The twins high-fived, and Legolas shook his head smiling.

"So we're good?"

"We're good."

They chatted for a while. Legolas noticeably loosened up around them, and started feeling more comfortable around them. He even got bold enough to ask for a peek under the blindfold, which resulted in a small chase involving Chaos and Legolas chasing after Trouble. As it turned out, she had not seen his face in three years either.

The twins told him their real names, Dante and Loké, and when he made a revelation of his own about being a prince, they were quite surprised themselves. They had jokingly bowed down to him, but didn't treat him weirdly other than cracking a joke about it every now and then, which Legolas was thankful for.

The three formed a stronger bond, and became faster friends. Though, sometimes they would ask rather... prying questions, for example:

"So tell us, your highness, are you in love with Vaeril?"

"W-what!?"


	9. Gay tension

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, kind sir. I asked for three of your fastest ponies, and you gave me three malnourished, sick and weak ponies. Which leaves me to wonder, do you treat all your ponies like this? Do you simply not listen to paying customers? Or are you giving these on accident?"

The man was speechless. No one would ever see through his deceiving skills. These ponies, although kept in terrible conditions, had a natural charm that always would make them appear strong. It was a keeping technique of the man, to keep them shining but without putting in too much effort.

"I should report this to the king, should I not? We happen to have connections to the king of Mirkwood, who happens to have his connections to the leaders of Rhovanion. I'm pretty sure royal interference would mess with business, would it not?"

The man averted his eyes and nodded.

"I strongly suggest you start taking better care of your ponies, or give them away to someone else who will. We'll still be taking these, but for only half the price."

At that, Damín took the pouch from the man, and Vaeril replaced it with another pouch. The man didn't dare move.

"Take good care of your ponies. Animal abuse is not something we tolerate. Ciao!"

Vaeril flashed a dazzling smile and took the ponies and Dwarfs with him. Once outside, they saddled up and left for the Misty Mountains, just behind the village. They stopped when they got near.

"I originally wanted to pass through the High pass, but seeing as we have formed a group of which four members are unarmed, three weak ponies, and two diseased with us, that might not be a good idea. Instead, either we pass through Moria or we go through the Gap of Rohan. Unless of course, the High pass is worth it."

"We could travel past the Gladden River. Just a bit South from here."

"Where's that?"

The company looked at Thovir, who had just spoken up.

"Not many come there that often, but it's fairly safe and fast compared to the other things you just mentioned."

Damín pulled out a map and handed it to Legolas, who opened it.

"He's right. There is a passage described south from here."

Vaeril looked over Legolas' shoulder. Legolas' face flushed up at this, remembering the conversation from earlier.

\-----------

"So tell me, your highness, are you in love with Vaeril?"

"W-what!?"

His face flushed. At first he thought the Tieflings were joking, but according to the intense gaze and the smirks he got he realized this was serious.

"N-no."

'Or am I? Where did that- I did not just think that."

He never really thought about it though. Besides, it was impossible for a male to love another male. Where did these twins get the idea from? That was just stupid.

"No, I don't. I already have someone else I love, at home."

"Wouldn't blame you if you did though, he's a nice dude."

"But spill the tea. Who's this other person?"

"You wouldn't know her. She's an elleth, by the name of Tauriel. She's a newly appointed leader of the border guards, though I have known her longer than that."

The twins, however, hadn't dropped their evil grins just yet. He felt more uncomfortable by the moment. 

"B-besides, he already has another that loves him too. Or so I think, at least. It's quite obvious, how she is still confused with herself about whether sh-"

"But do you feel entirely fine with that?"

"Should I b- I mean yes, yes I am.... no... maybe."

The twins stood up, and waved at something behind Legolas. He turned around and saw the rest of the company walking towards them, with three extra ponies. He felt Chaos- no, Loke, as she told him to call her, come closer to him and he felt her breath next to his ear, before hearing her words.

"Legolas, my man, you're gay."

\----------------

Gay. What did that mean? He hadn't heard the term before yet. Did it mean something like "being in love"? Maybe it was something in their native tongue, Infernal. But then again, it didn't have the spat out hisses the language usually used.

It sounded as a word from the common tongue, the way it was casually said as a part of the sentence. He ought to ask Vaeril what it meant, as he seemed to know a lot about those words, occasionally using weird terms like "yeet" or saying stuff like "mood" or "same". Or his weird impulse to say "nice" every time a specific number was mentioned.

"-endell. Yo Legolas, you listening?"

He shook his head, and looked to his side, where his face was but a few inches removed from Vaeril's, who happened to be staring right into his eyes with those green, glaring ones of his own. He blushed again and was once again about to allow his mind to wander off, but quickly looked around the company, to find them staring at him.

"Sorry, what were you saying?"

Vaeril removed his elbow from Legolas' shoulder and put his hands in his pocket.

"We'll be going Southwards, past the mountains, and we'll pass through them at the Gladden river. I was wondering, is it still a good idea to travel to Rivendell after? After all, I need to get my stitches removed. But, then again, I could easily handle that with a dagger."

"Not a chance. We're having this done professionally."

"It's settled then. We'll travel this loooooooooong way around the mountains and will reach Rivendell in about what, a week? Less if we travel faster."

Legolas rolled up the map and handed it back to the mute Dwarf. Then, they all got back on their mounts and stood there for an awkward moment.

"So someone gonna start riding, or..."

"Ya none of us have the social capabilities to take the initiative here. You go first."

Vaeril shrugged, and commanded Rogue to start walking to the south, past the mountains.

\----------------

They traveled for days. Nothing much happened, they were just your average travelers. Friendly chatter and quarrels, fun bonding moments, just what would happen on a normal trip. They'd told each other stories, about their pasts, current situations and their dreams. They traveled at an average pace, not in a hurry but still not slowing down either.

At night, they rested at quickly thrown together camps. They hunted for food, a fun pastime of Trouble, and sustained on what they could find in the wild. The smaller forests around the mountains were rarely hunted in, so it did quite surprise them when the wildlife wasn't as plentiful as they'd expected. Maybe this forest had also been poisoned, just as the decreasing health of Mirkwood. Legolas feared for another encounter with those nasty spiders and hoped they hadn't spread out to here as well.

They had taken good care of the newly bought ponies. With a bit of Legolas' and Thovir's herb knowledge they had been cured of any minor illnesses, and they had been eating well.

"So, we're here. Gladden River."

The company stood at the shore of the river. To their far right, in the West, the river split in two and both arms led their respective ways into the mountains.

"You'll take the lead from here, I presume?"

"Follow me, companions."

Laswynn led them past the arm on the right, into the Misty mountains.

The air was fresh there, as not many passed there often. Yet, and especially the Elves, the fellowship missed the smell of the greens that grew at lower levels. The path was relatively easy. They had few problems passing over it, despite being mounted. At one point they had to lift Trigger over a few rocks, as she was too large to fit through the gap in between.

"Hold on."

Vaeril jumped off Rogue's back and dropped down to one knee. The Warg patiently waited for him to be done. He inspected the floor.

"Goblin tracks."

Legolas dismounted his horse and stood behind him, already having grabbed his bow.

"How far?"

"And more importantly how much."

"Fourteen different tracks.. Fourteen diff-- no, these were carrying something. An injured one, or.. No, a carriage. Someone important with them."

Chaos jumped off her horse.

"A chief? A tribe leader? A king?"

"A shaman, I think. There are slight traces of magic around."

This caught everyone's attention.

"Vaeril, I told you that besides the practices of certain races there is no magic. And certainly not under Goblins."

"Except shamans. Never heard of them? This one worships a Balrog, which I believe resides further southwards in the mines of Moria."

"And how have you come to know that?"

Vaeril dismissively waved his hand at Legolas. The latter sighed.

"At this point, I'm not even surprised that your ten year disappearances would be filled with battling demons."

Chaos was once again stunned at the great understanding those two had of each other. She was about to ask about their ability to read minds, when Vaeril let out a yelp at the sudden poorly crafted sword sticking through his abdomen.

He dropped to the floor, and behind him were fifteen Goblins.


	10. I hate you.

Vaeril's body collapsed with a thud, the sword still sticking through his lower abdomen. Chaos grabbed Trouble's spear off their back, and pointed it at the nearest Goblin.

"My OTP! Bro you'll pay for that ship you just sunk!"

Legolas, instead of drawing his bow, rushed over to Vaeril's side.

"Legolas..."

"Don't say anything!"

"What do your Elven eyes see?"

Legolas' eyes started to tear up, and he frantically waved his hands around, not sure what to do.

"What?"

"Please... come closer..."

A tear dripped from Legolas' face as he bent down to hear what he was saying. Vaeril's voice had faded to a weak whisper.

"Please tell me what kind of shampoo you use.. damn your hair is soft."

Vaeril's voice went back to normal, all pain had disappeared from his face. He sat up and pulled the blade from his back. After seeing everyone's confusion, the Goblins and he laughed. He took a small device from between his chest protection, and pressed the tip of the sword. The sword shortened as he continued to apply pressure on it.

The fellowship was even more stunned when the laughing "Goblins" wiped dirt off their faces, to reveal a bunch of Men.

"What's going on, lad!? What be them Goblins doing!?"

Vaeril nearly doubled over in laughter, and wiped some of the fake bloodstains off his chestplate.

"..So is this gonna result in me bashing in Goblin skulls?"

Trouble, as if to emphasize their point, tried to grab their spear of their back but accidentally smacked themselves in their face with their tail when they realized Chaos had taken it moments before. Damín was still holding his axe, unsure of what to do.

"Come on.. That was funny!"

Nobody of the company was laughing. Vaeril and the Men slapped each other's hands, later explaining that it was called a high-five, while the Men changed some parts of their clothing for comfort.

When they had calmed down, the reactions of the company were varying. Trouble had joined the other group in laughing, Chaos was angry, the Dwarfs were confused and Legolas was feeling a whole mix of emotions.

Chaos walked over to Vaeril and started hitting him with the flat side of her sibling's spear.

"Not-" WHACK "Funny-" WHACK "You-" WHACK "Little-" WHACK "Bitc---"

"Lo! Hmm.. as funny as it is, you should stop smacking him and give me back my spear."

"My-" WHACK "Ship-" WHACK "Was almost-" WHACK "DEAD! WHAT YOU GODDAMN EXPECT ME TO DO BRO, YOU-"

As she was about to hit him again, the spear was pulled from her grasp and Legolas threw it back at Trouble, who effortlessly caught it with their tail.

"Wait, your ship? You ship me?"

Chaos suddenly froze and cursed under her breath. She turned around, wordlessly climbed on the back of the tall horse and smacked her head against Trouble's back.

"I can't believe I said that out loud."

"Hmm.. It was literally the first thing you said this chapter."

"Bro we talked about this, don't break the fourth wall."

"And we talked about this too, hmm... don't use male pronouns on me?"

"Bro you know I use "bro" on everyone including females and enby. It's kinda like your "hmm", an annoying speech tic."

Vaeril was now happily chatting with the leader of the Men. After a while, they parted ways again. Nobody quite caught any names, but it seemed like Vaeril knew all of them, still happily chatting after they left. 

He talked of their stories together, how they had fought side by side, carelessly revealing that he had been fighting in lesser wars in one of those "ten year disappearances" of his. He had the most unusual stories to tell, for example how he was stuck in the rope work of a catapult and was flung all across the battlefield, right head-first into the coffee of the other side's general.

A few hours and a lot of chattering later, the sun was setting. They had already come out of the other side of the pass, and had been travelling North for a while now. As all light faded away, they decided to set up camp.

After a small jumbling around, it had been decided that Vaeril and Chaos would be hunting for food, while the rest made up the camp and got a fire starting.

Holding a bow in his one hand, and an arrow crossed over his bow in his other, ready to pull it back with the string and to release it in less than a second, he carefully sneaked through the forest with the girl behind him. She was holding some rope and a dagger, and glancing at the bushes that were slightly rustling from the soft touch of the wind.

Vaeril suddenly stopped and turned around, facing Chaos with a smirk.

"So, your ship. Tell me about it."

She flushed pink and turned away.

"Bro focus on hunting."

"No need. We have enough food for another two days. But tell me about it, who are we shipping? I'm guessing it's me with someone."

She pursed her lips together, and unconsciously started tying a noose with her hands as a form of fidgeting.

"A noose?"

She looked down, and her hands stopped as if they were caught red-handed in killing someone. She grinned.

"Bro every time someone gave me a doll because I was cute, I completely destroyed it and hung my work of horror in the doorpost."

"Damn girl- But don't change the subject."

"Bro-- I-- fine. It's you and the Lego-man."

Vaeril was stunned. Him and Legolas? It did have a ring to it, he supposed. Strange that he never considered it. But Legolas was already in love, wasn't he? Tauriel, the Silvan guard girl. Had a special loathing for him, since Legolas' time was mostly divided between them and she couldn't stand that he was better at her in every single aspect.

'Who am I kidding, I'm better than everyone in every single aspect.'

No, but their mutual hatred for each other was more of a friendly competition. It was like with Legolas' first cousin Mélian, but a lot more extreme. Besides, Tauriel and Vaeril were actually friends and Mélian was more of a stingy-ass bitch. Not that they friendly interacted much, but..

Legolas was deeply in love with her, or so Vaeril thought. At least that's what he concluded, after the many sleepless nights Legolas had spent in Vaeril's small hut talking about how beautiful her red hair flowed behind her, how he loved to be the reason of her broad and shining smile... Vaeril would be ruining the friendships with both Elves if he were to go after Legolas.

He quickly turned his shocked face into a smile.

"Really now? And he knows about the ship?"

She nodded.

"Bro we less-than-subtly asked him if he was in love with you."

"We? Trouble is in on this? But did he not tell you he's already in love?"

"Bro he did, and he said you too, but like, I still ship it you know bro?"

"I ain't in love but I'm considering Leggy boye right now-- nah I'm kidding, he loves the guard chick."

They laughed, keeping the conversation light hearted, but they were in reality having a serious conversation about this. They walked back to the camp, where the rest had already put a dead hare over the fire.

"He talks about her a lot. What she did in the morning, how many times she smiled at him, yada yada yada... it gets real tiring."

"But bro, he does really blush when you look at him."

"If that's the case I wouldn't be able to tell-- Leggy!"

Legolas was sitting awkwardly next to the fire, as far as removed from the rest as possible without seeming rude, and trying to look as guilty as possible in the dead stare of the hare. He looked up and, as Chaos predicted, blushed when he caught Vaeril's gaze.

Vaeril jumped in his lap, and Legolas instinctively caught him, now holding him bridal style. He was heavier than normal Elves. Was that his added muscle mass?

"She says everyone ships us. What ya say, love?"

"Ship?"

"Yes, you know, when you really want people to be together because they fit so well. Do you think we fit each other well?"

He innocently batted his long eyelashes- Legolas hadn't noticed they were this long before- and Legolas awkwardly blushed even harder.

At the Elf being flustered, the entire company, that had directed their attention to the Elves, burst out in laughter, including Vaeril. It would have been one of the moments in which everyone shared some kind of humor he did not get, but this was different.

"I'm kidding, just messing with ya."

Vaeril stood up, gave Legolas a quick peck on the cheek and went to get the hare off the fire.


	11. Vaeril to the rescue...

"PARRY THIS YOU FILTHY CASUAL!"

Vaeril drew his bow and shot an Orc between his eyes.

The company was currently fighting some Orcs. They had invaded the camp in the dead of the night and nearly slit Laswynn's throat had Trouble not turned in their sleep and bumped into their bag, causing several pans to clatter and waking everyone except Trouble up.

At first everyone had laughed it off, figuring it was another prank. But when Vaeril started cursing and searching for his sword they had all stood up and grabbed whatever weapon they had at hand. 

Now everything had gone to shit. It seemed like a planned ambush, as if they had been masterfully tailed by these orcs in the days before. The Orcs knew about their weak spots, all physical or emotional hindrances they each had, and how to abuse them.

And there were a lot of Orcs.

Vaeril had put away his longbow and taken out his sword, slashing through one Orc in the progress of pulling it out of it's sheath. He ducked under a sword that came swinging from somewhere behind him, and swiftly moved up his leg to strike him in the crotch. 

It was hard to see in the dark. The only person who didn't have any trouble with the absence of light was Trouble, who already had mastered blindsight after three years of not having seen anything.

The rest, including the Orcs, missed many of the attacks, sometimes even fighting against an invisible opponent while actually facing a tree standing two yards away. It was so dark and swarming with Orcs that even the magic Elven eyes had trouble discerning their targets.

"Will somebody light a damn fire already!? I kinna even see me own hands!"

Vaeril deemed this a good idea. He avoided what he thought to be Legolas rushing past him, judging by the whitest thing he could think of that would be near them at the moment-- the Prince's hair. Then he jumped up, setting his foot on something that was moving-- probably an orc head-- and tried to jump into the nearest tree.

Once on a thick branch, he started making a fire on a stick after he broke it off a tree and wrapped some cloth around it. With this newly made torch he jumped down while axe-kicking an Orc, successfully breaking its skull. No holding back anymore, because now he could see the difference between Orcs and his friends. 

Now with the light, he slashed his way through the Orcs to get to Thovir and Laswynn, who weren't armed and were sticking together.

"Hold this!"

Thovir caught the torch, and Vaeril gripped his sword tighter. There were more Orcs than he originally thought.

'No big deal, let's go.'

"Gurth anin yrch! (Death to the Orcs)"

"Behind you!"

An arrow barely missed his head and pierced the eye of an Orc who was about to decapitate him. He flipped his head and shot an arrow back past Legolas, killing the Orc that almost hit Legolas' head off with a dangerously spiked club.

Three of them were unarmed. The twins only had one spear, and out of the Dwarves Damín was the only one who possessed an axe. Luckily, Chaos knew how to fend for herself. Her tail was spiked, which she was really thankful for at the moment. She wouldn't be matching Vaeril's or Legolas' kill count anytime soon, but she had yet to get a scratch. That should have counted for something, right?

Her fighting style was unique and fascinating to watch. No one else could employ a tail that way, acting as if it wasn't there but still landing attack after attack with it, like an extra arm or leg but much more flexible. She had the lightfootedness of an Elf, but her attacks were way too heavy to match an Elf's way of taking out an Orc.

"Vaeril! Can't you do the same thing as in the Orc village?"

"One, They were tired! Two, I wasn't tired!"

A few of the Orcs caught that last comment, and intensified their attack.

"Come on! Just to spite me or something!?"

The Orcs were surprised when he kept fending off their attacks without breaking a sweat. 

"Vaeril!"

He turned around, to saw that Legolas was being held by several Orcs, and one was holding a blunt knife against his throat. He drew his bow.

"I wouldn't do that, Dagnir, or your girlfriend's blood will color these grounds re--"

Vaeril broke out in a fit of laughter, together with the rest of the company, while Legolas did not find this situation funny at all.

"Leggy is a guy, man. He's an Elf, that's why he's so fabulous."

The Orcs did not care, apparently. They grabbed all company members, except Vaeril.

"How come you know my Elven name?"

"Dagnir an Glamog. Vuras Uruk. Orc-slayer. Your name is widely known throughout our kin."

"Actually it's just Dagnir, not specifically Orcs. Depends on who pays me most, really. Or when Thrandy asks me to do something, we're basically best buddies by now considering that one--"

"We were sent out to destroy you. The council wants us to bring your head on a stick."

The Orcs laughed, showing their filthy teeth. Many were missing a few, and Vaeril was actively imagining shooting arrows through those gaps. These Orcs pissed him off. But now that all his friends had knives against their throats he couldn't do much. Six Orcs were stalking towards him.

Their only hope was to have someone take out these Orcs from the back. But since there was no one, he scanned around.

Legolas already had his hand on the hilt of his own blade. 

Trouble had already stealthily placed the tip of their spear under the knife.

Damín was gripping his axe tightly.

Laswynn had taken a small dagger from her jacket's pocket.

Snuggles had given Thovir a beak full of what seemed to be needles or nails.

His best move at the moment would be to slip away, and to help Chaos, who was frozen in fear and hadn't moved at all since the moment of her capture. Afterwards, he'd go to Thovir. He made quick eye contact with everyone. Thovir got the idea and looked up.

"What be that!?"

The Orcs were distracted for a moment. Vaeril slipped through two Orcs, and quickly worked to take out the Orcs surrounding the girl, while the rest worked on their own. Her release seemed to wake her up, as she shook her head and rushed over to help the Dwarf woman next to her.

Legolas had the most Orcs. So when he unsheathed his blade and cut off the hand holding the knife, at least ten Orcs piled on top of him. He started slashing and cutting, but the Orcs were persistent. He felt something grab his leg, but barely registered it due to the unbelievable stench of the breaths of the Orcs.

When he finally succeeded in throwing all of the Orcs off him, he was just too late to stop one from dropping a large rock on his left leg, shattering the bones. He yelled in pain and shot an arrow at the Orc, who dropped down and bashed his skull in on the rock, putting more pressure on the already injured leg. He let out another yelp.

"Legolas!"

He looked around him to find that the rest of the Orcs had also been defeated, and Vaeril was now lifting the rock off his leg. He pulled Legolas' boots off, to examine the wound. There was a lot of blood. Then he picked up Legolas bridal style.

"How far are we from Rivendell?"

"Hmmm... I'd say five hours of riding, at our normal pace."

"I'll be there in three. I can't ride while holding Leggy, so you guys take Aigon and Rogue with you. Keep moving, because there might be more. Take this."

He unsheathed his sword and handed it to Thovir, and handed his bow and quiver of arrows to Chaos. Then he took off without a warning towards the North.

He kept running and running, desperate to get his wounded friend to Imladris. Legolas' face had scrunched up in pain, not making him any less handsome but still hurting Vaeril on the inside. He almost forcefully tore his eyes away from the beauty and kept on running.

Unfortunately, the fighting, running and lack of sleep quickly tired him out. Even his abnormal stamina had its limits, and it seemed he had overestimated himself. Still, he kept on pushing, not paying any mind to the fact he was tired. When his body started aching, he still didn't give up.

Eventually, when the towers of Imladris were in sight, he let out a sigh of relief and slowed down just a bit. He shook his head when he caught himself doing so, knowing that he wouldn't be able to start again if he were to stop for just a moment.

Legolas let out a moan of pain, barely audible, but still loud enough for the Elven ears to catch. He spared a glance at the wounded leg, now seeing that it was getting worse. 

He sped up. Even though his body was begging him to stop, and even though he couldn't breathe, he kept going and going at a faster pace than before. At one point, he went so fast he couldn't even see the floor anymore. Not that it was hard, as it was still dark, but it was quite the achievement.

Vaeril ran into Rivendell, to the first place he saw an Elf, and dropped to the floor. He whimpered out a "Help him" before closing his eyes.

"This would seem like a rather convenient place to take a nap..."


	12. Illegal sleepover

"Leggy~~ Hello Legolas~~~"

Legolas opened his eyes and immediately closed them when he saw what was happening. His head ached and he felt dizzy, unusual for an Elf. His leg hurt very much.

He had passed out from the pain earlier, or that was his guess. On his bed was none other than Vaeril Dagnir, mounted over his stomach. He silently cursed himself for feeling his cheeks heat up.

He felt some movement and a moment later he felt Vaeril's hot breath on his face. His cheeks heated up even more. Strange, he couldn't smell the smell of ash, blood and oak trees that usually hung around his friend. Did he have a bath? Legolas couldn't smell any soaps or shampoo either.

"You're awake, aren't you?"

He opened his eyes and was greeted by Vaeril's green ones staring right into his face.

"Good morning, love."

Vaeril winked and then rolled off him. Legolas slowly sat up and examined the room around him. It was a room in Rivendell, where they were supposed to be headed before the attack. Around his left leg was a large white cast covering his leg up to his knee.

"Look, I got my stitches removed."

He pulled up the side of his shirt to show a closed wound, a fresh scar among many others. The traces of the carefully placed and removed stitches were still visible, but would most likely fade with time. Legolas was once again momentarily distracted by the toned muscles but quickly directed his focus back at Vaeril's face.

"Where are we? And the rest?"

"We're on a bed. Or you are, I was. And the rest is probably in a bed too by now."

"Did they safely arrive in Imladris?"

"Ya they had some trouble finding it this morning and getting in--"

"This morning?"

Legolas looked outside, at the moon. A day or two must have passed, judging by how far it had progressed in it's cycle. He looked over at Vaeril, who was averting his eyes and softly smiling.

"You were out for a day. Also your leg is like, completely shattered. Luckily we have good treatment and medicine and you got your Elven healing going for you, but it will take a week to recover at the very least. Here, Damín found this. It's a piece of your leg!"

Vaeril handed him a small object. It was a splinter of bone. It must have come out of the wound. Legolas' face scrunched up.

"By Iluvatar, Vaeril, that is disgusting."

"That's what she said--"

"What?"

"But it's a piece of bone, Legolas. How many people can say they've held their own bones?"

"None, and for a reason, Vaeril!"

The Elf shrugged. A grin made it's way back to his face and he sat down on the large bed, next to Legolas. They both sat there for a while, in a comfortable silence. The mood was casual, with Legolas lying beneath the covers and Vaeril leaning against the footboard. It was only then that Legolas noticed that not only he was wearing his boots on the bed, they were also filthy and resting on his second pillow.

He patted the boots and pushed them off the bed. Then he took the pillow and shook it out beside the bed, causing all the dirt to crumble out. Vaeril had taken notice to the general idea of this and took off his boots. One glance at his socks decided for him that it was best to take those off too.

And once again the mood was casual. They had some chatter here and there, and Legolas had finally asked about when Vaeril had suddenly gotten so strong. It turned out that he had been gradually bulking up and not just at once, but that Legolas had paid no mind to it. Then something else crossed his mind.

"Vaeril, what does "gay" mean, exactly?"

Vaeril's head cocked to the side, his eyes quietly questioning if he was serious.

"It means homosexual. Did you really not know?"

Legolas didn't. He thought back to his conversation with the twins earlier. They said he was gay, which must have been an indication that he was in love with or somehow felt an attraction to his friend. He didn't know why, but ever since that one conversation he seemed to be more than ever drawn to Vaeril.

Vaeril's behavior had not helped at all either. Ever since the little chat he had with Loke, he had been very flirtatious towards Legolas. Even now, softly tracing his long fingers over the cast around Legolas' leg, he was making those comments throughout their conversation.

"You ok man? You seem distracted."

Legolas shook his head. He found that shaking his head hurt a lot. He put his head down on the pillow, and his hand shot up to his forehead.

"Oh I forgot to mention, you also have a very mild concussion and temporary loss of smell and taste because of all those stinky bitches jumping on top of you."

That would explain the constant pounding in his head. It was dull on the background, and he hadn't really paid attention to it, but it was there and now gradually getting worse. He pressed his hands to his temples to try and keep the pain down, but it didn't work. Vaeril grabbed his hands and put them down next to his side.

He then slowly got off the bed and rushed out, just to come rushing back in with a glass of water just a moment later. He handed the glass to Legolas, who slowly sat up to drink it. Then he got on the bed again, and slowly pressed Legolas down to a lying position again. He then laid down next to him.

"Get some sleep, it will help. I'll stop bothering you now."

Vaeril himself seemed to have drifted off a second later. Legolas slowly turned his head sideways, without disturbing the concussion, to look at his friend.

He found that he didn't appreciate Vaeril's good looks enough. Because even for Elven standards, Vaeril was exceptionally good looking. With the cocky grin wiped off his face by sleep his face seemed a lot different.

He had a sharp jawline, a small round nose, long eyelashes and very soft lips. Or so he thought, because his lips sure did look soft. They were slightly chapped and at one point they were split open, but they seemed soft nonetheless. Out of pure curiosity, his hand went up to feel them before he could control it.

His hand was hovering above Vaeril's face when he caught himself. Yet he didn't stop. He pressed his index finger to the lips, and found that they were indeed as soft as he'd suspected. 

Legolas slowly lifted himself up to lay on his elbow. From above Vaeril didn't seem any less handsome. His thumb now replaced his index finger, slowly caressing Vaeril's underlip. Then, his hand slowly traced his sharp jaw and his cheek. His skin was soft and smooth. His fingers brushed over a scar in his neck.

The scar was an old scar, it should at least be a thousand years old. He remembered that scar, he was there when it was made. They had been hunting down a Human girl, who had traced her sword over his neck while he was being held captive as a decoy.

The scar went around his neck and almost up into his face, but his face was yet untouched by blades or burns. There was one time a needle had made a scratch next to his nose, which was still visible though it was small. Legolas' hand went up to the scar and traced it.

From this distance, every imperfection on his perfect face was visible. The small spot on his jaw. The scratches in his eyebrow. The slight trace of tanned out freckles. The slightly lighter part of his face, caused by wearing bandages in a particularly sunny week. Yet Legolas found that these imperfections made his face even more beautiful.

Even though he was not smiling, the frequent smiles he made had left their marks on his face. He didn't know what it was, but it was there. The evidence that this Elf smiled himself through every day.

He found himself getting closer to Vaeril. Without disturbing his head or his leg, he had leaned down into Vaeril's face. His hand laid still on Vaeril's cheek, and their noses nearly touched. He didn't mind. He felt Vaeril's breath on his face again, and this time he could faintly smell the lingering aroma of ashes and oak again.

Legolas slowly closed the gap between their lips. The lips were just as soft as when he'd touched them with his hand. The kiss didn't last long. Legolas pulled back, closed his eyes and pressed his hand to his forehead. He laid back down.

'Why did I do that?'

He put his hand back down at his side, and his eyes remained closed. He decided that sleep was indeed the best he could do for now.

"If you wanted to kiss me that badly, you could've asked, you know."

And those words were the last thing he heard before he dozed off yet again.


	13. Well fuck

Vaeril woke up when it was still dark. He sat up and carefully left the bed, not to disturb Legolas. He needed his rest, after all. Vaeril had kept him up for long enough last night.

He put on his clothes, leaving his armor off though. The cape could come, for it was cool. He had specifically requested for a dark blue robe when the Elves of Imladris offered to wash his own, just for the effect.

After he had dressed, he silently crept out of Legolas' room.

'Now, who to disturb next...'

He crept through the empty halls. Somewhere around here must have been an exit?

Eventually he found one. Then, after some more searching, he found a training field. Luckily he brought his bow. He walked over to one of the targets and grabbed an arrow. He pulled the string back, and aimed.

'Can't sleep?'

Vaeril heard a voice in his head. It was not his own.

'Oh fun, mind readers.'

'Turn around.'

He did. The voice came from a boy, an Elven boy. He was as tall as Vaeril and had the same demeanor, but his white hair was a little longer and fluffy, his skin was dark and he wore a mask that covered his entire face. He felt like he knew him, though he had never seen him before.

"Do I know you?"

'Yes.'

"Nice to know. Do you also normally talk or you just gonna stand there creeping me out?"

'No.'

Vaeril looked around him. There weren't more of him, or so he thought. He felt a strange sense of familiarity, though he didn't know where it came from.

'I go by the name of Cyran. You are Vaeril, are you not?'

"Now that's creepy. Why does everyone know my name?"

'You are widely known throughout Middle Earth as Dagnir, Slayer, Vuras. Only I should know you as Vaeril, my little brother.'

Trouble was troubled. They could not sleep. It was perhaps four more hours until sunrise. Their tail waved around for a bit before they decided to get up. 

They quickly changed into something more practical and headed out. They didn't take their spear, but a small dagger that Vaeril had given everyone the day before. Later this day they would all be taught some life saving lessons with weapons because travelling these days was dangerous when unarmed, even though they were already out of the Wilderlands.

Their tail dragged over the ground and their feet were bare, as usual. It helped them navigate places, and sense danger. It didn't help locating walls though, so they weren't surprised when they smacked face first against one. Luckily most Tieflings had a stomp nose. They followed their ears to streaming water, probably the river Bruinen.

And for a while they walked past that river, until they came to a smaller lake. They sat down on one of the many large rocks besides it, with their feet and tail in the water.

'Hello there.'

"General Kenobi."

'What?'

It was a feminine voice, though it had no direction. Maybe someone was talking inside their head? They listened, but there was no sound of footsteps and there was no energy signature near. Where did this come from?

Suddenly, something sat down on the rock beside them. The person was probably light or very light footed.

"Why are you in my head?"

'Because I can not talk. Language was taken from me.'

Trouble looked up, though they could not see. They thought it might have brought some form of comfort to the other person.

'Can you see me?'

"Hmm.. no. No i can't."

'I can see you. You are Dante, the only non-Elf to bear the curse.'

They were confused. How did this person know their name? And what curse were they talking of?

'My name is Canae. The curse I am speaking of is what you would call your disease, or illness. It is not, and your friend knows.'

"Vaeril? Hmm? He knows?"

'He did not tell you. Come with me, I will show you.'

Trouble felt something move. They felt in the movements of the air a hand appear. In front of them. Their own hand went up and touched it. Then, it slowly dragged them. They stood up but did not move.

"How can I trust you? Hmmm... and more importantly, how can I trust you over Vaeril? Hmm I ain't some simple anime protagonist that is warped by some advice from some manipulator that they've never met."

They felt a hand touch their temple. Suddenly, golden lines started to dance around their vision. Their vision. Something they hadn't had in three years. There was no color, only gold outlining every shape. They moved their head around. They could see every rock, the edge of the lake, the trees, the village, everything.

They could see the girl they were talking to. She was shorter than them, had her hair pulled up in a ponytail and was probably wearing a mask, for her facial features were not defined. They could see themselves, their hands, and they could see a drop of water fall on those hands, a drop they had not noticed rolling off their cheek.

'Then if you can see where you are going, will you follow me now?'

They didn't even notice themselves nodding. Or walking. They were too busy looking around. Looking. It was something they could do now.

Eventually, they saw two figures on a field. One wore a cape which resembled Canae's, one wore a different cape and was holding a bow. He took a wild guess and assumed it was Vaeril. They stalked closer, silently as to not disturb them, but to be able to hear the conversation. Trouble had been right in their guess, as they heard Vaeril's voice.

Only Vaeril was talking. The other one, who had a cape like Canae and also lacked facial features, must also not be able to speak.

"Well screw you then. Where were you the last two thousand eight hundred something years then?"

What would they be talking about? Trouble usually did not like eavesdropping (it was more their sister's doing), but for some reason this did intrigue them.

"Yes I do understand. I understand that you've left me, just like my or our or whatever parents."

'Our parents are dead, Vaeril.'

Vaeril froze. He knew somewhere deep down that his parents could very well be dead, but he had always hoped that one day he would meet them.

'There was an accident. At the moment of your birth. A dragon took both of them to the Blue mountains, they could well be dead by now.'

A rustle was heard behind them. Vaeril drew his bow and aimed it at the bushes.

"Don't shoot, hmm?"

A figure got up, and a moment later a second figure did too. Vaeril recognized one of them, Trouble. The other one wore the same clothes as Cyran, but wore her white hair in a ponytail.

"Is she related to us or are you guys in a cult or something?"

'My name is Canae. We are in a special alliance called the Angels of the Stars.'

"So a cult. Dante please tell me you're not considering joining a cult."

They shook their head and stepped out of the bushes. Canae did the same. 

'We are not a cult. We are a group of nine, chosen by the gods, to free you of your curse.'

"Sounds like a cult to me. So you only with two or are there more of you?"

At that, Cyran made a sound. It was like a tune, one that Vaeril would describe as "a melodic noot" or something of the like. And after that, several other noots were heard and another two dark-skinned white-haired persons jumped out. Their names were Falael and Rolim, and they were brothers.

"Hmm we should stop introducing characters. People already hate this story enough."

"Don't worry, most of them drop out at the first chapter. But you're right, this is a bit dramatic. Now this group, according to many many story lines, will have evil intentions and we'll follow them, they betray us, yada yada yada, we die. Or at least some of us and the rest have severe ptsd."

"Hmm.. makes sense."

The four others watched this exchange, and if they could sigh they would.

'We are with peaceful intentions.'

"But you're in a cult."

Cyran, though wearing a mask, gave the impression that he wanted to hit Vaeril as much as anyone that knew of him. But he had to continue his mission. He took out a knife.

'I'm sorry, Vaeril.'

"What?"

'I need blood. Your blood.'

"How much? I'll give you."

'It has to be taken in battle. But I swear I do not want to do this, and maybe one day we'll be free to live as brothers again.'

"So much for good intentions."

Knives sprung out from the underside of Cyran's cape. The others stepped back, except for Vaeril, who grabbed an arrow.

"Fuck it. I wanted to fight you anyways."


	14. Family reunion gone wrong

"Dante, if I don't survive this tell Loke it was me who ate her chocolate. If I do, take this secret with you to the grave."

Vaeril noticed Trouble slightly nod before he had to duck while his brother swung the knives on his cape at him.

"WHY DO YOU EVEN HAVE THOSE!?"

Vaeril striked back, aiming to punch Cyran in the face but missed.

That never happened. Vaeril was too fast for any opponent to see him move. No one could dodge his punch, could they? He momentarily froze, and but a second later a foot made its way to his face. He reacted just in time to stop the blow with his hands. 

'Someone is... faster than me?'

'It's in the genes, Vaeril.'

Cyran backed up a bit, probably to gather speed for another attack, and Vaeril readied himself. His speed had been unmatched before, and it certainly as fuck wouldn't be matched now.

"If I look at your hair I'd say I won the best genes, Cyran."

While Trouble "oooh"-ed in the background, Vaeril's hand went to where his sword should be. It wasn't there. Of course just when he would need it, he would have left it in his (or more likely Legolas') room. His bow wouldn't come in handy, he was pretty sure there were some moral issues against that.

"Vaeril!"

Trouble threw their knife at Vaeril, who caught it and parried an incoming attack from his psycho brother. Right after, Cyran kicked him in the face.

"Nice to see you too."

He got up, wiped some dirt off his face and charged again.

'Kick, dodge, parry, uppercut, advance, punch, punch, step back, JESUS WHY DO YOU HAVE THAT THING, hook, dodge, dodge, DODGE DODGE DODGE AA!'

'I can read your thoughts, little brother.'

"And that's why you didn't see this one coming!"

Right as he said that, he punched his brother in the face. At least, that was his plan. His fist was stopped at the last moment.

'Yes, yes I did.'

"Fuck."

Cyran punched him in the stomach and tapped his temple. Vaeril doubled over, coughing. Cyran took out a small dagger and drew some blood from Vaeril's arm. He caught the blood in a vial, handed it to Canae and then held his hand above the cut.

The cut closed up, making it look like it had never been there. He then tapped Vaeril's temple again, and Vaeril stopped coughing. He held out his hand for Vaeril to take, and held his breath. He released it when Vaeril took it with his signature grin on his face.

"I'll beat you next time."

'In your dreams.'

Cyran wanted nothing more than to show Vaeril his face, and to show him a smile of his own, similar but different. He had not seen his baby brother for years after all. And though he shouldn't be showing his feelings, he pulled Vaeril into a hug.

It felt nice. Cyran normally wasn't a great fan of hugs, but this felt familiar. It was like hugging his parents again. For nearly three thousand years he had missed this feeling of true comfort in someone else's arms. It was like hugging someone you know well, like a friend, a lover, or a brother, even if you have not ever seen each other in their case.

"Hmm... So do you have to get my blood too?"

"Don't ruin the moment."

"...but I also want a hug, hmm?"

Legolas was slightly uncomfortable. He was laid in a very comfortable chair, with the back leaning back as far as possible with a pillow to rest his head on, in the shade, overlooking the training field with as much water available next to him as he needed. Though that was not what was making him uncomfortable.

What was making him uncomfortable was Vaeril laughing and chatting with some white haired guy wearing a cape, who had just shown up earlier that day together with other white haired people.

Worst of all, Vaeril had not talked to him yet. He had woken up to see that Vaeril had already left the bed, and an Elven girl was standing besides him. She helped him downstairs, to the training field, where everyone (except him) was training. They had all stopped by for a quick chat by now, except Vaeril.

He assumed Vaeril was not comfortable by what happened last night. Had he gone too far? He should have stopped himself. But Vaeril was so cocky about it, in that one moment when he laid down. He was awake all the time, and he hadn't stopped him. Then why was he avoiding Legolas?

He must've done something wrong. Vaeril never avoided him like this, and to make it worse he was talking to someone else. Someone with cooler knives, a cool cape, a mask, and a lot of mystery to him. Something anyone would find suspicious, except of course Vaeril. 

Maybe it was not the best move to think about it then. Instead he tried to focus on something else.

Dante was hitting it off pretty well with the new girl, Canae he believed her name to be. They were chatting and she was showing them how to correctly hold a bow. They told him that Canae had given them some form of sight, with black background and glittering lines of gold to show them their surroundings.

Loke had seemed to take a liking to the new girl as well. She was constantly trying to get her attention, often succeeding but with Dante then trying to get her attention back. Canae was constantly divided between the two, and it was honestly cute to watch.

"I agree. Someone else's love life is more fun to watch when you're in a mess with your own."

When had Vaeril made his way over to him? Legolas would have been so startled he would have fallen out of his chair if he was not an Elf. An Elf with a headache, that is. He composed his beating heart and fought to keep a blush down.

"Sorry, what?"

Vaeril winked. Legolas once again felt his cheeks heat up, though he kept trying to stop it.

"You blush a lot."

Vaeril had come closer, and Legolas' blush intensified. Vaeril held his hand to Legolas' forehead. His hand was cold, while it was usually warm. How did that happen? Wasn't he training just now? On this warm autumn day?

"Is it hot here? Are you drinking enough water?"

"Yes, I am. Don't worry."

It came out a bit forced, and Legolas once again cursed himself and his voice for cracking. 

It was then when he noticed that the other guy was standing there too. Legolas tried to move his head a bit to get a better look at him.

"Oh Leggy, meet my brother Cyran. He's in this creepy cult and beat me up last night."

Legolas let out a sigh of relief, a breath he didn't know he had been holding. It was then when he noticed the suspicion raising character description Vaeril had given him. Cult? Beat up?

'Legolas Thranduillion. Of course, you were born at the same time as Vaeril.'

Cyran bowed his head. Legolas sat up to do the same but Vaeril forced him down.

"Legolas stop being polite you're injured."

"I can at the very least--"

"No you can't shut up."

'Make me.'

That is what he would have said, if the circumstances were different. But they weren't, so Cyran caught his thoughts. Legolas did not know that and thus was surprised when Cyran suddenly choked on his own spit and burst out both coughing and laughing. His laugh was melodic, but little did Cyran know Vaeril would mock him about it later (noot noot noot).

"Did you think something weird?"

Legolas slowly shook his head, a blush rising, and was thankful Vaeril turned around to check on Cyran. Think? Could Cyran perhaps- it was no uncommon knowledge that some Elves did possess the powers of telepathy. Especially the more powerful Elves, like the lady Galadriel. Legolas could communicate with a few of his close friends and family himself.

Except for Vaeril. Vaeril always warded off his mind against what he called "mind-readers", a slightly more informal way of saying telepaths, because he didn't want anyone to "meddle around in his brain". Last time they visited Lothlórien, Vaeril had made a hat out of tin, folding it out of a thin leaf of the metal. He called it a "tinfoil hat" and looked quite ridiculous wearing it.

Yet, these "cult-members" (as Vaeril called them) were able to project their thoughts into other people's minds. They must know great power to do so. So naturally, Cyran might indeed have heard Legolas' last thought. And the thoughts he was having right now on Cyran's mind reading, and he could see the memory of Vaeril in his silly tin-foil hat.

'Yes I can, and it is quite adorable.'


	15. I like this guy

Since Legolas was magic, his healing didn't take over a week. Of course he still couldn't put too much pressure on his leg, but within a few months everything should be back to normal. For now he would have to switch ride behind Vaeril, while Chaos would be riding Aigon in his stead.

They had said goodbye to Cyran and his friends, with Chaos and Trouble both earning a kiss on the cheek from Canae, and left to continue their journey to break the curse. Now that all company members had received some basic weapon and fighting training, they wouldn't have to worry as much as before.

Not that they would have to worry that much. The journey went smooth, and soon they would arrive at another town named Bree, where they would get some provisions for their trip to the Blue mountains. It was nearly winter now, the weather was getting colder. They would have to get warmer clothing as well.

"There's an inn here, we could stay there for a night."

"Bro we gotta see if they want us there. We're "cursed descendants of demons and shit", remember?"

Loke was the most stingy of the Tieflings about the racism against them. Trouble seemed to be okay with a lot of things, but Chaos really seemed to be fighting against it. She got notably upset every time someone they would meet on their journey had denied any help or had tried to stop their journey just because of their heritage.

And she was especially mad now that they had been travelling for a long time, and the journey was tiring everyone out. They had already come further than the siblings had ever been, and Rivendell and it's nice people were already far behind.

"If they won't let you in, they won't be getting us in. And we're a group of well-paying tourists, aren't we?"

"Doubt that'll work, bro."

"We could try."

They stopped and got off their horses near an inn called "The Prancing Pony", and handed the horses to a hobbit. Dante instantly took a liking to the hobbit, saying how the little chap was quite funny to look at.

Hobbits were creatures smaller than Dwarves, most of them about three and a half feet tall. They had large feet with curly hair on them, just like on their heads. They wore no shoes, but otherwise most of them would wear more or less formal clothing, even the most adventurous of them. They were folk that preferred comfort, with friendly faces and pudgy stomachs.

Legolas still needed to lean on Vaeril for support, though he insisted he didn't need to. Vaeril had rushed to his side quickly when he nearly fell from a sudden jolt of pain in his leg, as overprotective as the Elf had become these last few weeks. He had been surprisingly gentle with Legolas, something no one would have thought of him.

The small group headed inside the inn just as the sun was setting and the rain had started. Inside was a lively mess, with a lot of drunk people. Mostly Men and Hobbits. It was weird to see a group coming in that had neither of those races with them, but nobody really paid mind to them.

"We'd like three rooms please. For one night."

The man behind the counter glanced at the party. He shrugged and handed Vaeril a few keys, who gave one to the Dwarves, one to the Tieflings and one to Legolas, who was now leaning on the counter for support. Vaeril gave the man a few coins, and the man gestured for them to follow a hobbit, who was eagerly waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

Upstairs were various rooms, and three were theirs. The hobbit, again taken great interest in by Dante, had shown them the three. Most of them were tired, and stayed in their rooms, with the exception of Thovir and of course, Vaeril.

They headed downstairs together, where it had considerably quieted down but not by much. They got something to drink and sat down, watching Snuggles pace around the table while they chatted. They talked of the duck-trade, about folding paper into animals and shared conspiracy theories about how in the far future there would be devices powered by electrons transporting energy that would be called "electricity". The people at the table next to them glanced at them and moved to a further away table.

After a while it was dark outside, and the rain was pouring. The door opened, and a Dwarf walked in. Thovir, when seeing that, immediately pulled up his hood and hid his face from the Dwarf coming inside. Vaeril noticed his sudden change in behavior. He glanced at the Dwarf. His face seemed familiar.

The Dwarf made his way over to a table and had something to eat. Then, an old Man joined him and talked to him. After a while, they both looked over at where Vaeril and Thovir were sitting. The old Man got up, and walked over to their table.

"Vaeril, son of Goren, and Thovir, son of Thavick. Come join us."

"Why does everyone know my name dammit. Let me guess, you're a wizard and that guy over there is Thovir's second cousin, who is going to reclaim his throne position under the mountain with a team of Dwarves?"

The old Man looked at him in astonishment. His guess was right, for he was Gandalf the Grey, one of the five wizards. And at his own table was indeed Thorin Oakenshield, indeed Thovir's second cousin. And he was indeed looking for several Dwarves to join him to reclaim Erebor. Thorin had heard Thovir's name and got up.

"Cousin. Long time no see."

Thovir sighed.

"Indeed, last time was at the battle, I believe."

Thorin did not necessary have good memories of that particular war.

"You go by Oakenshield now, I heard."

"And you still sell ducks."

Snuggles let out a "quack" at that last comment. Thorin raised his eyebrow, but quickly noticed Vaeril and glared at him.

"Dagnir."

"Why does everyone--"

"A Man-like appearing Elf who reeks of blood and ashes, with eyes piercing even the toughest Dwarves. You are widely known across these lands, as well as the Wilderlands."

Vaeril sighed. He should be used to people knowing his name already. Usually when he traveled, he didn't wait for his victims to recognize him and yell out his name before he killed them. And he usually also didn't travel in broad daylight. Luckily there was only a vague description about him.

"You have slaughtered many of my people."

"Sorry? It's nothing personal, I've slaughtered many of other peoples people too. Even Elves, man. Though I don't particularly feel good about any of that. I try not to think of it."

Thorin dismissed him with a scoff and turned to his cousin.

"Thovir. Come with me, on my journey to Erebor. You shall be rewarded richly."

"I apologize, cousin. I have to go."

Thovir quickly made his way up the stairs, looking pale in the face. Vaeril's keen Elven hearing told him that he had gone into his room and slammed the door shut. The others would check on him, he guessed. In the meanwhile he awkwardly shrugged at the wizard and the Dwarf.

"What about you, Elf. Will you be joining us on our quest? As much as I would hate to admit it, we could use your skills."

"I'm currently on a quest of my own. We gonna go to the Blue mountains to break a curse."

"I am travelling to the Blue mountains myself. I could aid you on your quest if you were to return the favor."

"Why are you bargaining with me, an Elf?"

Thorin Oakenshield looked him in the eyes. Blue eyes met bright green ones.

"To prove a point to your king."

"Then you are asking me to betray my own king."

"You will be richly rewarded. A share of the treasure of Erebor."

"..deal..."

The next morning they set out for the Blue mountains again, this time joined by Thorin Oakenshield. Vaeril had pressed him not to say anything about Legolas or the twins, in fear of whatever racial slurs they could add to their dictionary.

Thovir was not comfortable with the new addition to their team. When Thorin and Vaeril rode up front to converse about the quests, he tended to stay as much to the back as possible. And when they rested, he avoided his cousin as much as possible. Something told Vaeril that the two must have been sharing a bad past between them.

Damín noticed this sudden distancing of Thovir. He had sticked more to his side than ever, and gave him a comforting hand on his shoulder when Thovir was feeling especially upset. Thovir appreciated the gestures of his mute friend, but it didn't help much.

The feeling you have when you see the man that killed your father isn't that easily helped.


	16. Hold up-- a DRAGON!?

They had been travelling with Thorin for another few weeks now. They had one more quick run-in with Orcs, but further than that nothing of interest happened. For the last two days they were travelling, the Blue mountains had been in sight. Now that they were there, they could see that they were much larger than they had expected.

They went into those mountains. After less than a day of searching they came to their destination, the residence of Durin's folk.

"Uncle! And uncle Thovir! You're back!"

Two young Dwarves, not much more than eighty years of age came rushing towards the company.

"Fíli, Kíli!"

The Dwarves stood in front of the company. The younger one sent a wink in Legolas' direction and then eyed the rest of the group, like his brother.

"Who are all these people?"

"Hi! I'm Vaeril but you probably already know that!"

"Why would we know that?"

"FINALLY SOMEONE WHO DOESN'T."

Everyone sighed and shook their heads. Vaeril was probably tired out from their journey, they guessed. But then again, he traveled a lot, so maybe he was just tired of social interaction (I mean, mood).

They followed the Dwarves further into the Blue mountains. After a while, they had to part ways with the Dwarves of their own company.

"We'll have to pick up our ducks, and then we be heading out for the Wilderlands. Good luck, lad."

Part of Vaeril had hoped they would stay, but of course they wouldn't. They had only come to travel together, after all. They had a nice few months together. Of course they would write each other, and meet up more often, but that was the end of their journey. 

The rest followed Thorin to his house, where they would be discussing Vaeril's quest and more details about Thorin's.

"So tell me, what is this quest of yours."

"We are to break a curse. A curse usually placed upon Elves, or in Dante's case through bloodline, by a demon, Volgon. He takes the shape of a dragon and resides in these mountains."

Vaeril took a short moment to chuckle at Kíli, who was still under the impression Legolas was a maiden and slowly shuffling closer to him. Legolas was growing very uncomfortable.

"We got some help from a cult who will probably pop in to save the day at the very last moment, we have.. What do we have, three idiots, a master archer, a duck and a bunch of Dwarves we don't even know. That'll work."

The three idiots nodded, obviously liking the plan. Legolas whacked the nodding Vaeril over the head.

"Anygays. We know that Volgon resides in a cave near here. Not your best move then, building up a civilization here, but then again he has been pretty quiet. We think he's asleep."

"So what's your plan?"

"We sneak in and kill him."

The idiots took to nodding again, but everyone in the room knew it was not going to be that easy. After all, how do you kill a demon? And before that, how do you sneak in without being noticed?

"Vaeril, cease the nodding. The only advantage we have is that he is in dragon form, and thus mortal."

"Wait, so we are going to battle two dragons before we're finally back in Erebor?"

"You and your brother do not have to come, if you do no-"

"No we're coming alright!"

"No we're not!"

Fíli and Kíli had a quick squabble, but eventually decided to stay. After all, their folk was in possible danger and defeating Volgon might further persuade Vaeril to join them in return. Besides, Fíli had warmed up to Snuggles. The little duckling was adorable and liked to nestle in his hair.

Thorin took out a map of the Blue Mountains, and Vaeril marked the cave on it. It was a bit outside the village where the Dwarves resided, but it was remote enough for the village to be save should something explode.

"Wait, explode?"

"Yes, explode. Moving on--"

They discussed their strategies. Vaeril had, in his dreams, received more tips and instructions of the former fellow curse-bearers who had contacted him that day in Aramore. Those curse-bearers were the ones that had ventured this far, and had all taken steps in trying to secure the downfall of Volgon.

They marked entrances, tunnels and rooms on the map. They gave each their job, and should the demon escape there would be another group of Dwarves waiting to capture it with a giant net they would set up outside the main gate, and other gates big enough for the dragon to escape, for a demon like Volgon does not quickly shift in or out of larger shapes.

"The dragon will be thirty feet high and sixty feet broad, including wings. I do not think he could easily crawl through here but if we're all K.O. and he wiggles through he'll be gone."

"But we don't have that much nets."

"Then put a few men there that will shoot anything that moves."

The group stayed inside Thorin's house for the remainder of the day. Eventually his sister Dís came to look at their plans and bring them food (and to pull Kíli's ear for leaving a dagger in a tree that almost cut off the ear of a child). They would all be staying at Thorin's house and leave the very next morning.

They ate their supper, and Thorin showed them were they would be staying. He was a good host, despite hating the races the four guests were from. Vaeril supposed that he was just telling himself that he just needed to get this quest done and get rid of them all.

Thorin's house was not big. The Dwarven brothers had gone home, Trouble and Chaos would be staying in the guest room and Legolas and Vaeril would take the living room. They had no problem with it, since they already slept considerably less than the others. They sat on the sofa, and Vaeril was having trouble not laughing.

They looked pretty silly, sitting on a couch made for people half their size. Their knees would almost stick to their shoulders and the ceiling was not far up. If they would stand they would bump their heads. The other furniture was also small. The tables and chairs were more like chairs and footrests to the Elves. 

Some Elves had never been outside of the forest. So the first time a Dwarf had ventured there, there was a lot of confusion. How could anyone ever be that small? They had believed it to be a disease, and the Dwarf had grown pretty insulted about it. It must be the other way around here.

Four strangers, each of them unnaturally tall for the Dwarves, that must have caused at least some ruckus under the children. It was amusing, to say the least.

"You take the couch, I'll sleep on the floor."

"It is alright, I can take the floor."

"But you're injured."

"And you're cursed."

"Fine, then we both sleep on the couch."

Before Legolas could answer, Vaeril had tackled him into a hug and now they were both lying on the sofa. He quickly wrapped his arms and legs around the blond Elf, and kept him from moving. He was stuck in a warm embrace and he couldn't do anything about it. He tried to get out of it, without moving his leg, but to no avail.

He managed to turn around though, and was now staring right into Vaeril's face. While never breaking eye contact, he slowly moved to sit up. He had a plan to wipe the cocky grin off his face, and it would start right now.

With one fluid movement he broke free of the embrace, pinned Vaeril to the couch and sat on top of him. But Vaeril was taking none of it. Half a second later and this time Vaeril was on top. The smug grin was back. Legolas struggled, but Vaeril's muscle mass proved to have it's effect on his strength.

When Vaeril removed his arms, Legolas took his chance to catch him by surprise. He sat up, grabbed his friend and twisted. But he made a wrong movement and suddenly felt a sting of pain in his leg. Since they had been riding for so long, the leg almost didn't hurt anymore, but he still shouldn't be making sudden movements like this.

He fell back onto the couch, and this time Vaeril was more guarded. They stared at each other, never breaking eye contact to, according to Vaeril, establish dominance. When Vaeril yawned, Legolas took his chance again and this time spun the other way around.

"You know, upstairs they're probably thinking we're having sex."

Legolas' face flushed and almost didn't register that Vaeril had grabbed him and pulled him down to his chest.

"Let's quickly sleep before they get up and see us like this."

And Legolas drifted off, listening to the slow and steady heartbeat of his crush.


	17. Poems suck

Fully armed, the team set out to defeat the dragon first thing in the morning.

They hiked a small bit over the mountains before they got to a hidden opening. The first test, to which Vaeril knew the answer: cursed blood. He took a dagger, cut open his hand and smeared some on the wall. Then, while he was bandaging it, the wall crumbled, leaving a dusty entrance.

Without a fire, as that would maybe light the suspicious smelling dust, they headed in. The path was uneven and there were many rocks littered around the floor, but they had little trouble getting over it. Dante was leading the way, as they were able to see the outlines of the rocks, walls and all other obstacles.

After a while all light from the entrance had faded. They were in complete darkness. And now even the Elven eyes, who could see much by little light, didn't catch anything. It ticked Vaeril off. He did not like being blinded, and now realized how Trouble must have felt in all those years they couldn't see.

"Hold it."

The company stopped. They were in an open space, they could tell.

"It's a dead end."

It smelled like blood, and the only sound was that of dripping water.

"Where there's water, there is no dead end. Has to be one of those tests no one warned me about."

"Or it's not a test and you can't expect everything to be layed out for you on a mission like this."

Vaeril dismissed Legolas with a wave and carefully headed over to the source, slowly tapping the surface with his foot before putting his weight on it.

He got to where the water was dripping. It was glowing, not enough to be noticed in such a dark room but when you got so close you could have touched it with your nose it was visible to the keenest of eyes. That was enough for Vaeril to follow it up to the roof, where he found a tunnel.

"We can head up here. I'll go first and secure a rope."

Vaeril, without waiting for a comment, jumped as high as he could, which was pretty high as he was a hyper-muscled Elf. Still not having reached the end, almost at the end though, he set his legs on one side of the tunnel and pressed his back to the other side, and slowly crawled up.

When he got up after a minute or two, he found a sturdy stalagmite to bind a rope to. He threw the rope down, and according to the sound he had hit Loke right on her nose. She would also be the first to climb up, and hit him with her tail when she got there.

"Careful there, I still need this nose for the rest of the field trip."

"What for? Bro it's not like we gonna be smelling that lizard bitch."

"Isn't that lizard bitch like your great-great-great-whatever-grandpa or something?"

At that point, the rest had crawled out of the hole. He saw Dante helping Fíli out of the tunnel, did a quick headcount and then realized that they could see again. And yes, further into one of the tunnels that were now visible, there was a red light. He made his way over to the light.

"That smells like demon right there. This is the way."

While walking inside, still careful, the brightness increased. But Vaeril gradually felt worse. He had already started coughing again since they arrived at the village, but now he had the constant urge to cough. The pain inside increased. 

He had been warned about this in his dreams. The demon had placed a curse upon him, and every time he would go near him he would know. Luckily for them, the demon wouldn't know until he coughed up blood. But unluckily, since two of his descendants were here, he would be alerted of their presence as soon as he would wake.

He was in a deep sleep, and the company tried to make as little sound as possible. Yet, there was one thing all of them failed to notice.

If the demon was sleeping, who had lit the fire?

Cyran stood at the window and watched the rising sun. The view was nice from their hideout, high in the trees.

'Your mask.'

He turned around to face Canae.

'It's cracking.'

His hand reached up to the mask on his face, and he felt over the smooth surface. She was right, there was a crack in it. It was small and at the edge, easily covered by his hair, but it was there.

'It's that boy, your brother, isn't it?'

'He's in danger. What about your mask? The demon siblings?'

'Cyran, you're not supposed to show emotion. Now that you did, your life is bound to that of your brother.'

'I acquired the blood. I can fix this. I will fix this.'

Cyran had never been good with his decision to join the alliance. As an Angel, he was never allowed to show any kind of emotion. He didn't plan to, as he joined in a moment of devastation in a depressive time, wishing to stop feeling anything, but he didn't expect to have to deal with Vaeril.

Now with the blood he got from Vaeril, in that little vial, he could break free. There was a spell, recited in verse when he first joined, that required five components:

You are enslaved 'til your end and beyond

But feelings you feel shall form a bond

Your life and theirs shall reshape together

And they shall then join us forever

To break free of this eternal pact

Before your mask is fully cracked

You need these items for a spell

Things on which you much might dwell

A symbol of love, given by lover

Taken in fight, the blood of a brother

A tear of one dear like a friend

Flesh of yourself, from limb's end

A flower of silver, not easy to find

And when all the planets are aligned

The ritual happens on a blue moon

Do it wrong, it shall be your doom

All parts shall unite

With a flame that shall burn in white

On night's peak, you shall speak

These words that shall give what you seek:

"Free me, stars, from what I did

I shall repay here in night's mid

Take these offers of my life

And you shall free me with these five"

Cyran had already found the flower of silver. It was a flower that had grown in a patch that had sprouted where a star had fallen. The flower radiated light and was not easily hided other than his most trusted friends: Rolim, Falael and of course Canae. They supported him on his journey, and in return he would help them too.

Blood of the brother he had gotten the day before. It hurt him thinking back about it, but Vaeril had grinned about it afterwards. For Falael and Rolim it wouldn't be a problem; they were related. But Canae had no brother, or any family for that matter. They had studied on that, and "a brother" could also refer to a good friend. And thus she had taken some of Cyran.

The tear they already had. While not being able to show it much, they were dear to each other. Their masks all had slight dents at the edges, all masks did from slight cracks in their facades every once in a while. But those dents were made when they had laughed at jokes or shared in pain.

Flesh of themselves: They dared not to think about that for too long. They had decided to just cut off a hand, that would be enough.

All that was left for them was the symbol of love. But none of them had a lover. "A symbol of love, given by lover" would be their problem, and the next blue moon would soon pass. And the next one on which all planets would align would be in five thousand years. His only option was to go back.

Back, to before he joined the alliance. Back before he became an Angel. There was a girl. Of Mankind. She would well be dead by now, if not very old. But something told him she was waiting. Waiting, for fifty years, for him to return. He had to find her before the next week, before the blue moon would pass.

He took a hood and attached it to his cape. Then he walked downstairs and told the others to do the same.

'Where are we going? It's hopeless after all.'

'None of us have a lover.'

'I just noticed. The lover doesn't have to be yours, does it?'

'Then where are we heading?'

'To the only lover I know.'

The other three looked at each other.

'Alyssa.'


	18. A lost story- oh and a dragon

They traveled as quick as the light. It was an ability all four of them would come to miss if they were to leave the alliance. Hopping from shadow to shadow, they quickly reached their destination. A little town named Aramore. Cyran, though not showing it, was dreading to come back here.

He had suddenly disappeared, from his one and only love, and she probably wouldn't even recognize him anymore. She would be old and crippled by now. And someone as happy and forgetful as her wouldn't have dreaded his leave much anyways.

'Does she still live here?'

'I would think so. She loved this place.'

"VAERIL!"

A small Half-Orc girl came rushing towards them.

"Wait, you're not Vaeril! Why do you look like him then?"

'I'm his brother. How do you know Vaeril?'

"I'm his friend."

"Marok! Don't talk to strangers!"

An Orc woman rushed over and apologized for the girl. They were surprised at the idea of peaceful Orcs but it wasn't a bad thing. The group asked the woman for directions, and not long after they headed for the right house.

Cyran walked up to the door, his heart pounding in his chest. Fifty-one years... What if she had completely forgotten him? He brought up his hand to knock, and hesitated.

'Oh for fuck's sake.'

Falael walked past and knocked on the door.

'I have a long and sad backstory with her, okay!?'

The door was opened by a teenager. He didn't seem to be very interested in the group.

"The fuck are you, some kinda cult?"

'Does Alyssa live here?'

"One sec."

He didn't seem to be bothered by the telepathy, or just didn't notice or care. He closed the door halfway and turned around.

"Mom! Some kinda cult looking for ya!"

Cyran froze. Mom? He didn't consider she would have moved onto a different person. Someone else. Someone other than him. What did he expect, for her to linger on her feelings for him like he did for her? For her to wait?

He was all lost in his thoughts, so he didn't notice when the door was swung open again by a woman holding a book. She had light brown hair, in a loose braid, hanging a little past her shoulders. Her lilac colored eyes traced the strange updo of the four, confusion on her face.

"Can I help you?"

'You haven't aged, how?'

The woman looked at him, head slightly cocked. Then she dropped the book she was holding, her mouth agape.

"C-Cyran!?"

"Damn this cave. I stubbed my toe at least seven times since entering this tunnel by now."

"Then watch where you're going, bro."

The company stalked through the Dragon's lair, careful not to disturb even the slightest pebble. Of course Vaeril wasn't being the most quiet one, and neither was Loke.

Dante was being surprisingly quiet, for someone named Trouble. Speaking of, they hadn't done anything unusual of which their virtue name could be deducted. Vaeril was starting to wonder where they got their name "Trouble". Just to fit with Chaos' "Chaos"? Because they went through a lot of trouble? Because it was a lot of trouble to work with Chaos?

"Ooh look, more tunnels."

In front of them, their tunnel split in two. One of the two ways kept going straight, and the other one went down. Fíli took out the map he had been carrying; it was the map they had marked the tunnels of the cave on. He handed it to Vaeril, who took a quick glance at it and handed it back.

"Strange, there is no up here..."

Fíli, while trying to put the map in his bag, accidentally dropped it. Except that the map fell upwards. Several other things from his bag, like a dagger, two quills and a little owl statue made of silver, also made their way out and clattered against the ceiling.

Vaeril coughed at this observation. When he saw the blood he coughed up make it's way up to the roof, he noticed that his hair and everyone's hair was standing up. He quickly stifled his otherwise loud laughter, to avoid waking up the demon.

"Ooh this is gay."

He jumped and quickly spun around, and then landed perfectly on the roof. He looked around him, and found himself unharmed and sticking to the top half of the tunnel. The rest was hanging upside down. He did the same thing again, and landed on what was first the floor. Then he tried again, and yet again sticked to the new floor.

"Ancient magic. I like it."

Legolas also jumped to the roof. Loke tried it too, but as soon as her feet left the ground she fell against the floor the Elves were standing on, bumping her head on it before clattering against it. Luckily she didn't break anything. Tieflings have broad necks, after all.

The three helped the rest up, or rather, down. They grabbed each other's arms and slowly let their feet go, and were flipped and put on their feet by the others in order to avoid breaking any necks like Chaos almost did.

Then, they made their way "up". And they were lucky they discovered the reversing in gravity, because after walking up for a bit, the ceiling suddenly went vertically upwards. They were now walking on some kind of bridge in a large open space. When looking over the edge, they couldn't see the bottom of the giant gap.

There were no other walls visible either. Or a roof. Just the wall from the tunnel they came from, and the bridge. Until the bridge ended. And when they decided to go back, there was no back either. They were standing on a giant rock pillar in the middle of nowhere. In the middle of quite literally nowhere.

"How did that one happen?"

No one had the time to think of an answer sensible enough to say out loud, for the column started to shake. They all grabbed hold to the first thing they saw to avoid losing their balance, and their hearts started to pound harder in their chests when they saw the pillar crumbling.

"Let all go and close your eyes, and you shall see through all their lies! Everyone close your eyes!"

But nobody dared to even blink. They didn't dare to move either, except to occasionally regain their balance, which was more often than they'd like.

"Do you trust me?"

"At this point? Not really!"

"Why does this only work out in movies. Anygays-"

Vaeril let go of the rest, though the rest protested (especially Kíli, who was holding on to him), and closed his eyes. It was pitch black, like usual when he closed his eyes. He shook his head. Of course they didn't mean it literally.

He did the next best thing he could think of at the moment, the only other thing the riddle could have meant, and jumped off the pillar. Many shouts of "Vaeril!" were heard, but it was too late. He had jumped off the column, and he was falling.

But not for long. But a second later they heard a sound of matter colliding with other matter. And up from the darkness popped a head. The head looked around itself, at the black void around it, and laughed.

"Damn! Guys check this out I'm a head! Oh by the way you can just like, walk here."

Trouble was the next to test that theory. They climbed off, and they too, could stand on the floor. Their head was visible above the void, just like with Vaeril. The rest soon followed.

"Hmmm... The floor here is smooth. That's why I couldn't see it."

The ones on the floor helped the rest down, namely the Dwarves who would suffer the most damage from the fall. As soon as Legolas, the last one, left the pillar, the illusion disappeared. The room wasn't as big as they had previously thought. The walls and the ceiling were very much visible, just like the giant, very awake, dragon.

"Oh no!"

"Oh damn, nice!"

"Sup bro."

The dragon let out a loud roar, and the group hid behind the first rock they could see, as the pillar was quickly dissolved by a flame after.

"MAn! Can't we talk this out!?"

Vaeril wouldn't be doing much talking after, as he started coughing without stop. It didn't take long for Trouble to follow his example. Legolas, who was sitting next to Vaeril, and Chaos and Fíli, next to Dante, immediately rushed to their aids.

The dragon stopped, and looked at the twins, as if he recognized them. One of his two tails grabbed the two and held them in front of his eyes. A claw slowly went up, and tapped Trouble's chest. And that's where everything went downhill.

They stopped coughing, and froze. Then, the dragon Volgon let them go.

But they didn't fall.


	19. That was sad

Vaeril watched in shock as his friend was lifted up high, and then released from a height of at least twenty feet. But they didn't fall.

They didn't fall twenty feet, to be splattered on the floor, like a normal person.

They floated. All frozen, surrounded by a misty aura. They floated there for a good thirty seconds, at least. No one dared to move, as if that would break the spell and send them tumbling to the floor anyways.

All of a sudden, they bent over, and let out a scream of agony. Their body was bent in awkward angles, places that were not supposed to be bent were being bent, and from their back, out of their shirt, ripped two pairs of wings. One pair above the other, and giant wings at that. Their blindfold fell off, revealing their face.

Their red eyes, devoid of any irises or pupils, shone brightly in the dimly lit cave. Their horns started growing, and their nails too. Their feet grew, and on their back and tail spikes were formed.

They let out a roar, and then dropped to the ground.

"Superhero landing!"

They looked up from their superhero landing, a glare in their eyes. Then they charged, with their claws trying to hit Vaeril. He jumped away at the last moment.

"DAMN-!"

And they charged again. One of the claws caught his cape, and teared another hole in it. Vaeril jumped away, and coughed again. At the sound of the cough, Dante turned their head and flew towards him.

"They're blind, Vaeril! They orientate based on sound, smell and feeling!"

Trouble turned their head towards Legolas' voice, the owner of which was long gone from his previous position. Legolas had climbed up a large rock, and shot an arrow right at the eye of the dragon. The demon, who hadn't been paying attention to him, roared at the pain of the arrow piercing his eye.

Loke had watched in horror at the transformation of her sibling, and feared for what would happen to her. She wiggled her arms out of her ancestor's hold, and freed her greataxe, which she had acquired in Rivendell. With a powerful swing, she chopped off the tip of the tail which was curled around her.

She dropped out of the air, and fell to the ground, hard. She yelled in pain, and tried to get away. Her legs were awkwardly bent, presumably both broken. Thorin dragged her behind a rock, and there they kept quiet.

Vaeril, while dodging Dante with more sound than he'd like, had in the meanwhile noticed that Volgon was not as invincible as your average dragon. The arrow, the axe, they all went through his skin. Of course, he was a demon in dragon shape, so he wasn't as strong and his scales were less hard.

To test his theory, he pulled out his sword. And with his sword, he jumped over various rocks to make it to the dragon, always still coughing. With a last big leap, he stabbed the chest of the dragon and pulled it down. The dragon roared at it's flesh being torn apart, and Dante froze for a moment.

Now inside the dragon's chest, some of it's organs were visible.

"That is disgusting! Damn!"

Dante shook their head, out of their petrified state. Their head moved around, and they seemed clueless as to where they were. They dropped to the floor to find their blindfold.

The dragon flickered. One moment there was a giant dragon, the next there was a giant demon made of suspicious grey smoke. Legolas fired off several arrows, but most passed through the smoke.

Dante and Loke flickered too. One moment they were active, and nearly crying out in pain on the floor, and the next they were made out of stone, stuck in the same position. They clutched their heads and brought them down to their knees, but nothing lessened the pain.

"Wait, I think-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, as a last arrow of Legolas made it's way into the dragon and stuck in it's heart. The demon was dead. It dropped down, nearly squashing Loke, who had been protected by Dante and their wings, in the process. Kíli looked behind him.

"Didn't expect it to be that easy..."

"In the Hobbit, the Dragon died easily too. The hardest part is the aftermath."

They looked at Vaeril, who was looking at the Tiefling siblings, now made of stone.

They were like a statue. Both bodies made of stone, one protecting the other, with fear and pain on their faces, frozen in place.

"Dante!"

None of them dared to move, and Vaeril didn't even crack a cocky joke at Fíli rushing over to the younger twin. He ducked under the wings, and his hands reached up to cup their face. It was rapidly getting colder, all remnants of their body warmth quickly dissipating. He placed his head to their chest, hopeful for a heartbeat, but he found none.

Broken, he sat down, next to Loke's petrified body, and started sobbing. The rest, except for Legolas, who was still on the rock, made their way over, and Kíli put his hand on his brother's shoulder.

A tear fell down Vaeril's cheek. For months, he had traveled with these two. He didn't know much about the two of them, but still they had a deep bond. It stinged, this loss. It reminded him of why he shouldn't get too friendly with people. And he knew something would happen.

Something like this was bound to happen. The lifespan of a Tiefling, though longer than that of Men, was just a breath compared to an endless Elven life. He knew they would die, but not so soon. He should have to stay with them for at least another hundred years, having fun, mocking them for growing old, and have more fun with their kids.

It shouldn't have been like this. He never should have taken them, he never should have..

It was no use. Even if he hadn't brought them on this journey, he would still have killed the demon and they would still suffer this fate. And then other people would have been hurt. It was inevitable. Still, he couldn't help but to feel guilty. As if it was his fault.

As if it was his fault they were frozen in place, for eternity. As if it was his fault that they would never move again. As if it was his fault no one could ever talk with them, laugh with them or cry with them again. As if it was his fault they were dead.

"They shouldn't have died like this."

Vaeril traced his hand over Loke's horn.

"They should have lived a peaceful life, in their village. They shouldn't have an eternal look of fear frozen, they should be smiling and laughing like always. They should be with their friends, causing trouble in the village and running around. I shouldn't have brought them."

"But they would be happy if it should be like this."

They turned around, to Legolas, who was standing but a bit behind them.

"I didn't know them that well. But if they were still moving, they would tell you that it they had fun on this trip. They learned how to fight, Dante regained their sense of sight, and they both made good friends. Friends they would sacrifice themselves for. And if they were to... to die, anyways, they would be happy to at least have helped you achieve your goal, and free many others from your curse."

Vaeril nodded at what Legolas said, and mustered a smile.

"Still, we can't leave them here. We should lift them out, and give them a nice spot to stand."

He walked over to the dead dragon and kicked it in the face.

"I can't believe it's just... over like this."

"What do you mean?"

"Eighteen chapters, fifteen of which dedicated to this stupid curse thing, and it ends like this. That's crappy."

"What are you talking about?"

Vaeril dismissively waved his hand.

"Just breaking the fourth wall here. I know you can hear me, author, and your ending sucks!"

At that moment, a small piece of rock broke off and hit Vaeril on the head.

"That was on purpose!"

And after, other pieces of rock started breaking off. The cave started to shake, and to crumble. 

"Run!!"

There was no time to save the twins. They got buried under rocks falling down, most of the rocks being blocked by Trouble's wings though. 

They ran, back over the bridge, going upside down, through the tunnel, down through the hole, and they made it outside through the way they had come in. Just in time too, for the road back in was blocked but a second later by falling rocks. After adjusting to the sudden brightness of the day, they looked at each other.

The group had made it out, missing only two members. Despite that they smiled, knowing that Dante and Loke wouldn't have wanted it any other way if they could have helped.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed this crap


End file.
